


Batman: Crimson

by Severina310



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games), Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 32,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina310/pseuds/Severina310
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selina Kyle returns to Gotham with her sights set on a big score. On the night of robbery, everything goes wrong. Batman and Catwoman team up to untangle a criminal web that leads them from Gotham to Bludhaven and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> Hello all! After several smutty PWP one-shots I decided to try my hand at something longer that has an actual plot! At least, I think it has a plot.
> 
> I've been working on this story for a long time - almost 2 years. It's finished. I'm really proud of that because I have a tendency to start things and never finish them. But I actually did it!
> 
> This is how I plan to publish this story: Today, Jan. 1, 2015, I will publish the author's notes and the first chapter. Then every Sunday I will upload a new chapter until the story is finished. (There are 24 chapters.)
> 
> Three things:  
> \- Batman/Catwoman (BatCat!) story  
> \- There will be some smut so if you're under 18 you should not read this  
> \- I don't own anything!
> 
> I'd like to thank my husband for his support and blackbatpurplecat.tumblr.com for being a tireless source of support (and for tolerating my annoying messages!)
> 
> My Batman takes a lot of inspiration from the Animated Series, the comics (mostly Pre-Nu52), and the video games.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (cross-posted at FF.net)

Chapter 1

He slid the black Samsonite carry-on into the overhead bin, clicked the plastic latch closed, and settled into his seat with a sigh. Another international flight, another wicked case of jet lag and a digestive tract that wouldn’t be right for days. Heading up the European base of LexCorp Worldwide had perks but quarterly conferences in various parts of the world was not one of them. This quarter, the conference was to be held in Gotham. There was nothing worse than leaving his adopted Parisian home for the gritty, dark, always overcast piece of Americana that was Gotham City.

Sighing again, he counted to three before pulling his iPad from his bag. Flight time meant catching up on the massive backlog of unanswered emails clogging up his inbox (342 in all). He hated email. He should have been born in the days before email, or at least born in the days before you had to cc everyone in the damn company just to answer a question about pens. 

To: John Sanderson  
From: Paul Levinson  
CC: Dept - Finance - All  
John,  
Harrison has asked that-

“Excuse me. That’s my seat.” The feminine voice was clear and confident. The flirtatious notes in her speech danced through the air and curled around his ear drums. He looked up. Long blonde hair. A rosebud mouth painted ruby red. Wire rimmed glasses framing two bright emerald eyes. Eyelashes thick as a forest fluttered as their gazes locked. 

“I’m 4A,” she said, gesturing toward the window seat. 

“Sorry,” he sputtered, getting up so she could slide into the seat next to him. Her black pencil skirt rode up an inch above her knees when she sat down. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “You’re American.”

“So are you,” she said, her lips plump and parted. With a touch, the iPad screen went dark. Those emails could wait. 

@@@@@

Seven hours flew by as they talked and flirted, their interaction lubricated by expensive airline food and overpriced drinks. His lovely seatmate Katerina was a Gotham-based jewelry buyer for Lord & Taylor returning home after Paris Fashion Week. She was funny, gorgeous, and available. He was beginning to think he was in love.

“If you’re free sometime this week - ” he began as they gathered their belongings after landing.

“Maybe,” she grinned. Alcohol threw off his balance as he tried to lean on the armrest and he missed it by a mile. His jacket slipped off his lap and onto the floor. 

“Here,” she giggled, handing it back to him. “Good thing neither of us is driving. We’re both over the legal limit.” He smiled sheepishly. 

Walking down the boarding ramp together, he tried to grab her hand and hold it tight. Pulling away, she giggled again and expertly masked a drunken stumble.

“That was good for a girl in heels,” he teased. 

“One of my many talents.” Her voice was low, seductive. 

“Let me check in with the office and then we can continue this conversation-” he said as he reached for his phone. The pocket of his bag where he kept his electronics felt strangely roomy. Looking down, he saw his phone but his iPad was gone. “Uh oh.” 

“What?” 

“I must have left my iPad on the plane. I’ll be right back.” He hurried back toward the ramp. When he emerged 15 minutes later, Katerina was gone. 

@@@@@@

“Where to?” the surly cabbie asked as she slid into the backseat. 

“Uptown Marriott.” He nodded and hit the gas. She ran a hand through her short black hair. The blonde wig and wire rimmed glasses were at the bottom of a bathroom trashcan where she’d ditched them before heading out into the Gotham smog. Wigs always started to itch after a few hours but they were necessary in her line of work. 

Her flirtation with seat 4B had resulted in $5000 in cash lifted from the wallet in his jacket pocket and one brand new iPad. Not bad for seven hours of work. As a rule she didn’t work on planes - too much risk and nowhere to run - but rules are made to be broken. Business men never learned not to flash their cash around when trying to impress a woman and John Sanderson was too good to pass up. 

“You from around here?” the cabbie asked. 

“Just here on business,” she lied as she leaned back against the worn leather seats. The dirty brick buildings flickered by like a slideshow as the cab sped along the expressway, the dark architecture of Gotham welcoming her home. She looked toward the rooftops, so different in the daylight, and the memory of her last night in the city filled her thoughts. Cold rain, wet skin, hot lips against her neck. She flushed. 

Cracking the window open to allow the cool October air to soothe her burning skin, the corners of her mouth twitched into an uneasy smile. After a year away from her city, Selina Kyle was finally home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The dull thud and thwack of fists hitting the sandbag echoed through the cave. Tape tore off his hands in pieces as he landed blow after blow, his mind blank as his body operated on muscle memory alone. After spending nights in the city with all his senses on high alert and every synapse in his brain firing at full capacity, it felt good to turn it all off and just let his body work. 

Gotham had been quiet for the past two nights. Quiet unnerved him. It set his teeth on edge and wound his muscles into tight, taunt strings sensitive as a mousetrap. He waited for the moment it would all fall apart The next heist, the next murder, the next plot to destroy the city. It would come. He’d be ready. 

“Sir? I believe there is something over here you need to see,” Alfred said, his voice snapping Bruce back to reality. Back from the blankness of the workout, his raw knuckles started screaming. He’d taken the skin off his left hand again. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said, flexing his hands. Nothing broken, just bruised. He’d gotten off easy today. 

“Though I have been known to work wonders, oatmeal remains oatmeal. However, the image on your computer will prove far more intriguing.” It was then he heard beeping coming from the batcomputer. Jogging up the stairs, he grabbed his coffee from Alfred’s tray and headed toward the massive machine. Blood clotted on his hand. Alfred sighed audibly. 

“What fake extreme sport did Bruce Wayne partake in to injure himself this time? Brazilian hot boxing? Andean free-style rock climbing? Nude coral reef diving?” 

“Funny,” Bruce said as he slid into his chair. 

“A laugh a minute, Sir.” Alfred was at his side with gauze and antiseptic before he could blink. Sometimes he swore that man was faster than he was. 

Bruce hit a few keys and a grainy black and white still of a blonde woman wearing wire rimmed glasses filled the screen. There was no need to look at the notification flashing beneath the image, he knew. His body knew. His heart sped up, his groin tightened, and he was back on that rooftop - his hands lightly gripping her hips as she straddled him, rain drenching both of them, the scent of wet leather and sweat hanging in the air. 

Catwoman. 

Selina. 

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. There was no proof that this woman was Catwoman and he needed to avoid jumping to conclusions. He needed to focus on the evidence. Evidence is solid, concrete, reliable. Evidence does not lie. It’s not subject to whims and emotions - it merely is or isn’t. If justice is his overarching goal, evidence is the trail that leads him there. 

The batcomputer runs facial recognition software across a hacked network of strategically-placed security cameras spread throughout the city. The software compares faces caught on tape with any mugshots or images in his files marked “active”, “missing”, or “whereabouts unknown”. If a possible identification is made (a 96% probability of a match is required to trigger the system), the image is flagged and a notification is sent to the user. This image, taken at Gotham International Airport, was showing a 99% probability of belonging to Selina Kyle. He glanced at the time stamp - 7:36 a.m. Forty-eight minutes ago. 

According to his intel, since her hasty departure from Gotham 11 months ago, Selina Kyle had lived in no fewer than six countries - Denmark, Portugal, France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. He pulled up the FAA’s list (hacked) of international flights arriving in Gotham. Twenty-six arrivals since 6 a.m. ET, 14 of which were from Asia and automatically ruled out as possibilities. That left him 12 flights to sort through. Knowing Selina’s taste for the finer things in life, he allowed himself to discard passengers listed in economy. One flight from London and another from Amsterdam were ruled out as all the names on the first class passenger manifests were decidedly male-sounding and Selina preferred hyper feminine names. He scanned the rest. 

Unsurprisingly, none of the names listed were her known aliases. Selina was smart, she changed identities more frequently than shoes. It’s one of the myriad of reasons the authorities had such a hard time tracking her down. He scanned the names again, looking for something, anything, that would signal she’d come home. 

His mouse hovered over a name. Katerina Kline, seat 4A, flight 2363 Paris to Gotham direct. It felt like her. He brought his fingertips together and placed them against his lips. 

“Alfred, hand me a burner phone.” A cheap, disposable cell phone appeared on the console. He dialed and waited. 

“Air France customer service, this is Monique how may I help you?” A woman. Perfect. He almost smiled. 

“Hi Monique,” he said in a bright, cheerful voice. It was a voice Bruce Wayne used often. “I was on flight 2363 from Paris to Gotham this morning and I reported some personal items missing. I was calling to see if anything had been turned in?”

“Let me check. Your name?” He glanced at the manifest. 

“John Sanderson. Seat 4B.” Soft clicking and the buzz of an open line filled the few seconds of silence. 

“Oh, yes, Mr. Sanderson, I have your report right here. Unfortunately it doesn’t look like we’ve found your missing items as of yet.” 

“Did I list my watch on there?” He leaned his head back and looked at the craggy roof of the cave. His shoulders were tingling, just like they always did when a hunch started to pan out. 

“No. Are you missing that as well?”

“Yes, I - oh, wait! No, I’m not. Sorry, I have it right here. I swear, this jet lag will be the end of me!” he laughed, a charming hint of sheepish embarrassment in his voice. No one could get mad at that intonation. Bruce Wayne knew that from experience. “Can we go over my list quickly? I want to make sure I’m not forgetting anything else. Like my brain.” Monique laughed on the other end of the line, her voice tinny. She liked him, just as he intended. 

“I show you’re missing an iPad and $5000 in cash. No brain listed,” she joked. He chuckled a deep, throaty chuckle that meant that he liked her, too. He could feel her blush through the phone.

“You may want to check again, I’m pretty sure I lost it over the Atlantic.” She laughed again. When she was finished he allowed the silence to stretch. “Well. Thank you, Monique. Please do call at the number I provided earlier if anything turns up.” She said goodbye and he snapped the burner closed, Bruce Wayne’s charm disappearing once more. 

“Has the cat come back?” Alfred asked, taking the phone from Bruce. 

“Nothing definitive, but it all lines up. If there’s anything Catwoman likes more than jewels, it’s cash. Her seatmate is short several grand.” He fell silent again, his eyes glued to the blonde woman on the screen. “Why, Alfred?” 

“Sir?” 

“She didn’t get on that plane to rob Sanderson, not for a score that small. That was opportunity. There’s got to be something else.” 

“If I may be so bold,” Alfred said, handing Bruce an invitation from the stack of mail he’d brought down with breakfast. “Shall I RSVP?” 

Bruce looked at the invite and shook his head. He should have known.

“Absolutely.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Exclusive events always brought out the who’s who of Gotham high society in droves, and tonight was no exception. They filtered about the room like bejeweled hummingbirds, thin flutes of expensive champagne clutched in their manicured hands. As always, many of the women in attendance had pulled out all the stops in the accessories department. Too bad she wasn’t in the market for a piece of audaciously expensive jewelry. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight she had her eye on a bigger score. 

The museum was previewing its new gem and mineral exhibit featuring some of the most valuable stones in the world. Sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds were displayed about the room, each gem high on clarity and perfectly cut and set. Each would fetch a fortune on the black market. But she had her sights set on something more exquisite than a simple emerald or diamond. She was after something she’d only read about, something some in her profession believed to be the sparkly equivalent of the Loch Ness monster. Directly in the middle of the room, surrounded by overly-perfumed people gesticulating excitedly, sat the Queen’s Ruby. 

Roughly the size of a man’s fist and deeper red than arterial blood, the Queen’s Ruby was valued at close to $20 million. It was part of an anonymous private collection and hadn’t been displayed publicly in over fifty years. Even from this distance, it was everything she’d imagined and more. If her operation went as planned, the ruby would be out of the country by morning. 

Blending into the outskirts of the crowd, she pulled out her phone and pretended to text while taking discreet pictures of the cameras lining the ceiling and the positioning of each of the jewelry cases. Even with her recon and weeks of advance planning, tonight would be tricky. 

Due to its rarity as an exhibit, the Queen’s Ruby was subject to intense international and domestic press coverage, making it a target for every thief and hustler for a hundred miles. In turn, the security in the wing would be increased by at least thirty percent. Of the seven guards in the room, Selina pegged three as temporary hires - the temps always gave themselves away with their nervous glances and uneasy fidgeting. She’d wager on another two temps in the security control room in addition to the regular staff. 

She mentally catalogued the room as she took pictures - there were six visible cameras. Judging by the layout of the space, these cameras weren’t large or powerful enough to capture the whole room without significant blind spots, meaning there had to be at least four cameras she couldn’t see. The room also contained a focused light motion sensor system built into the walls. When enabled, this system created a complicated web of infrared beams crisscrossing the room. The alarm would be triggered if anything blocked a beam from meeting its designated light receptor. It would take precision, patience, and damn good gymnastics to clear the web without breaking any of the beams. Her fingers itched. This would be a challenge. Challenges like these are what she lived for. 

The Batman was the wildcard. The one factor she couldn’t predict or calculate for. He’d be watching, she knew, but when? Where? If all went well she wouldn’t meet him tonight. She wouldn’t find herself on a rooftop with him, the late October air heavy with the spicy scent of fall, his perfect lips casting intriguing shadows across his strong chin. 

“No interest in the exhibit?” The voice came from her right. It was easy, playful. She wasn’t surprised by the attention, considering she’d opted for her tightest black cocktail dress and highest stiletto heels. But tonight was not about catching the eye of another mark. The unexpected windfall from her seatmate had already paid for her trip. 

Turning to the owner of the voice, her excuses died on her lips. She was face to face with none other than Bruce Wayne. Broad shoulders and narrow hips draped in a smartly tailored dark grey suit, a blue-grey silk tie chosen to highlight his ice blue eyes, a pair of silver Tiffany cufflinks at his wrists. Those simple, vintage cufflinks were worth roughly $3,000. The newly-minted social media billionaire circulating through the crowd was wearing a watch worth $200,000, yet Bruce Wayne, the wealthiest man in the room, opted for subtly. Expensive without being flashy, elegance without pretense. Old money to his very core. It was a look she liked. 

“On the contrary. I have quite an eye for beautiful things.” Their eyes met as she tucked her phone into her clutch. Before snapping the clutch shut she sent the pictures of the room to her computer, which would automatically overlay them onto a blueprint of the building using a program she wrote. Within an hour she’d have an interactive map of the room, including duct work and security systems.

“We have that in common,” he drawled. There was nothing subtle in the way his eyes roamed her curves. She hadn’t planned on working at the party, but she did love all things vintage. And handsome billionaires. Lifting his cufflinks might be fun. “Join me for a drink?” 

 

@@@@@

 

Drinks in hand, they made their way to an empty exhibit room containing several uncut gems from around the world. She took pleasure in knowing she could take every stone in this room tonight if she wanted. It would be easy. But she’d never done things easy. 

“I’d ask if you come to these things often, but given I’ve never seen you around before...” he said, his right hand settling at the small of her back as they walked slowly around the room.

“I’d ask if you know everyone in Gotham but I’m pretty sure you’d answer me with some line about always remembering a woman like me,” she quipped. 

“What makes you think it would be a line?” he asked, smiling. It surprised her. 

According to every gossip site in town Bruce Wayne is a womanizer with more looks than brains who loves three things: Parties, booze, and women. He’s immature, self-absorbed, and a borderline alcoholic. Given all the rumors about his behavior, Selina always found it odd that he’d never been busted for a DUI or caught on video doing cocaine in some overdecorated bathroom. 

“What happened there?” she asked, nodding toward a bandage across the knuckles of his left hand. 

“I - have you ever gone scuba diving near a coral reef?” he asked. She tried not to notice how blue his eyes were, how high his cheekbones. He was handsome in that classic way - square, rugged, masculine; all chin and cheekbone, closely shaved skin and tantalizingly plump lips. The light scent of his expensive cologne teasingly brushed her nose. He smelled male, virile, sexy. 

“I thought they made you wear gloves.”

“I’m not one to follow the rules. Much to my own detriment.” 

In a dark corner, they stopped in front of a large geode teeming with amethyst. A single spotlight illuminated the rock, allowing the untamed gems to shimmer like the city at night. Setting her drink down, she grabbed his hand and ran her thumb lightly over the bandages.

“You’re a rebel,” she said, voice low, playful, reverberating with sex. It was usually part of the con. Tonight the lust on her lips tasted real. He set his drink down. 

“Am I?” he asked, his voice dropping from the cheerful, smooth tones he’d been using into something rougher. He was in her personal space, backing her against the wall. His full lips closed over brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. Movie star teeth. “And you?” 

“Now Mr. Wayne, I’m a good girl,” she said, implying everything but. Her back hit the wall and her hands flew to his chest. She ran her hands across him and down his arms. “Maybe you can show me just how good bad can be.” 

Their lips met. He tasted clean, with no trace of alcohol on his tongue. Normally a kiss from a mark was something to be endured. Tonight it was something to be enjoyed, savored, and catalogued in her memory. The way he kissed made her almost willing to give him anything. Suddenly she wished things were different, wished they were normal people who met the way normal people meet - in a bar, at a coffee shop - somewhere where vintage cufflinks weren’t more important than his hands on her body. 

Deja vu set her off balance. The way he made her heart pound, made her knees weak, the way he gripped her shoulders as he pinned her against the wall with his hips.... She’d done this before, she’d kissed him before, she’d swear on it had she not known better. 

“Leave with me,” he murmured as he pulled her flush against him. There was something different in his voice, something dark. Something eerily familiar. 

“I-” she gasped as he gently nipped the flesh of her neck. She tried to tease him and push him away like she would with any other mark. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave his arms. His fingers trailed lightly along her spine as she shuddered against him. She hadn’t felt desire like this in a long time. Not since that night on the roof-

“Bruce? Are you in here?” Veronica Vreeland’s voice rang out from the doorway. They broke apart and their eyes locked. His eyes teemed with intelligence, with lust, even a little rage. This was not Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire. He was someone else, someone different. Someone familiar. 

“Yeah, Ronnie. I’m here,” he called out as he broke eye contact. She turned to leave but he caught her arm. “You never told me your name.” 

“I know.” Picking up her glass, she walked past Veronica Vreeland with her head high and her hips swaying seductively. Once she was out of sight, she wiped her wine glass clean of fingerprints, set it on a table, and walked into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos. I don't have a beta and no one sees this (besides me) before I post it. I've read this thing about a zillion times at this point but sometimes they still slip by me! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 4

 

If there was one constant he could rely on, it was that all plans involving Selina Kyle would go awry. Upon seeing her use her phone at the museum, he decided to utilize experimental WayneTech technology to clone her cellphone. The program worked up to 6 feet away; he could have stood a reasonable distance from her and let the tech do its work. Instead, he spoke to her. He flirted with her. He kissed her. 

It’d gone too far; pushing her against the wall, her crimson-tipped fingernails lightly dragging along his tie and down his arms. She made his blood burn with her soft, pliable lips; her mouth tasting of sweet wine, her body warm against his. Of course, when it was over, he was missing his cufflinks. 

Such a stupid thing for him to do. He hadn’t needed to kiss her to get the information he wanted - her cellphone pictures of the room were exactly what he expected to find. He knew better. He knew he knew better. And he did it anyway. 

When they’d pulled apart, he watched confusion flicker across her features as she stared into his open face. She recognized him. She didn’t know who she recognized, she couldn’t place him, but she saw him for what he really was. That was dangerous. Irritated, he slammed his foot down harder on the Batmobile’s accelerator. 

Losing the cufflinks didn’t upset him. No, his anger stemmed from letting his mask slip like some amateur who’d only been in the game a short while. Pulling her to him, relishing once again in the electricity that sparked between them, and then asking her to leave with him - not Bruce Wayne, _him_. Unacceptable. 

The only explanation he could come up with for his behavior (though not one he was willing to admit to) was that he missed Selina. Missed chasing her across Gotham and watching her graceful form move through the night. He missed their banter - her banter, really, he limited himself to short, mostly monosyllabic replies. He’d missed her warmth and her lips and her scent. Alone in his bed after patrol, on the edge of sleep, he’d find himself thinking of her. Thinking about how she looked at him like she wanted nothing more than to go to bed with him. Thinking about the way she’d sometimes bite his lower lip on the end of a kiss. Thinking about the way her hips felt in his hands as she straddled him in the rain...

Winding roads and thickets of old growth trees gave way to the amber street lights of Gotham. He needed to focus. There was no question that Catwoman would attempt to take the Queen’s Ruby tonight. The Batman would stop her because that was his job. Nothing else mattered outside his mission. 

“Be advised, silent alarm tripped at 19th and Washington.” The police scanner in the Batmobile crackled to life. The address of the museum. He glanced at the clock - 12:13. Early for Catwoman, she’s usually an after one a.m. kind of girl. She must have anticipated his early arrival. 

The back wheels skidded and screeched as he turned left onto 19th street. Museum ETA in 43 seconds. He was out of the Batmobile and halfway up the side of the building before it dawned on him - Since when does Catwoman trip silent alarms?

 

@@@@@@

 

With the grace of a ballet dancer she carefully twisted her body around the motion sensor beams. Undetectable to the naked eye, the beams burned red through the enhanced lenses of her goggles. Even with the slow, precise movements required to navigate the infrared beams, this was easier than expected. At this pace, she’d have the ruby and be back in her hotel in approximately 27 minutes. With a final twist of her hips she reached the Queen’s Ruby. 

Like the other gems in the room, it was softly illuminated to enhance its beauty. Selina’s brow furrowed. Something was off, it wasn’t refracting the light properly. Suddenly, the motion sensor beams surrounding her shut off. Cold began to spread across her shoulders. This wasn’t right. 

“Stop right there.” Her eyes closed as gooseflesh broke out along the back of her neck. Him. It was always him. 

“Well, well. My first night back in town and look who decided to pay me a visit. I’m flattered,” she purred as she turned to face him. “Have you missed me, handsome?” 

And he was handsome. As handsome as she remembered - big, broad, a monument to modern athleticism and the latest in body armor technology. He always took her breath away and tonight was no exception.

“You tripped the silent alarm,” Batman said, as he wrapped his cape around his body like a shroud. 

“Honey, I don’t trip silent alarms. Besides, that’s impossible in this room.” He cocked his head to the side as he studied her and tapped something on the side of his cowl.

“There was a call on the police scanner about a silent alarm at this address. But my sensors aren’t picking up anything coming from the building.” The cold that had settled in her spine wrapped itself around her throat. This was all wrong and they both knew it. 

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said, the ruby catching her eye again. There was something off about it, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on...

“Agreed.”

“Wait...” She crouched down to examine the stone. 

“Leave it!” he growled. 

“It’s fake.” 

He froze, his cape rustling. In seconds he was at her shoulder. 

“We’ve got two minutes and fourteen seconds before the police arrive,” he said. 

“See how the light isn’t refracting properly on the left side? And the color is off?” He examined the case as she talked. “These flaws wouldn’t have been noticeable had this case been lighted properly.”

“How do you mean?”

“The lights are only coming from the sides. In a typical gem case, the lights are positioned at the top, bottom, and the sides. It enhances the cut and clarity. And the sparkle, of course.” 

“Someone’s already been here. The security sensors for the glass have been eaten through.” He pointed to a barely noticeable gap in the discreetly hidden wires. Producing a clean cotton swab and empty test tube from his utility belt, he took a sample of the corroded material left behind. 

“How? There wasn’t time for anyone to break in.”

The sound of glass shattering drew their attention. A small black ball fell from the broken skylight. A grenade. 

“Down!” Batman yelled as he pulled his cape up to shield them. And then the world went white.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

Reality was fuzzy. Everything was blurred with soft-focus edges, like a photo filter or impressionist painting. Large gruff hands smelling of motor oil bruised the flesh on her upper arms as they pulled her off the floor and forced her kneel. An explosion, they'd been knocked back. They. Batman. Gotham. The ruby. Her thoughts cleared. Had she lost consciousness? For how long?

Five figures repelled through the broken skylight as the sound of police sirens howling through the streets grew closer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Batman had been captured, too. Two nervous men gripped him tightly, their eyes darting between Batman and a woman clad in a red one-shouldered bodysuit. She repelled gracefully down from the broken skylight, her hair flowing behind her like black lava. Steely sapphire eyes and a shock of white hair sprouting from her hairline gave her a cold, unflappable air. A red cat's paw tattoo adorned her upper arm.

"Red Claw," Batman growled. 

“Red Claw?” Catwoman asked, doubtful. “Red Claw’s not...” She trailed off as the realization hit her. Red Claw was a Kasnian terrorist leader hellbent on restoring the crumbling country to its pre-war glory. Of all the stories about the organization’s elusive leader, it had always been assumed Red Claw was a man. Apparently not. 

“Well played,” Catwoman said with a small amount of begrudging respect. There’s no better con than making law enforcement scour the world for someone who doesn’t exist. 

Red Claw ignored her.

A masked henchman handed Red Claw the ruby. Smiling wickedly, she examined it slowly, turning it carefully in her hands. Eyes narrowing, her smile fell.

"Where is it?" she demanded, kneeing Batman in the gut. "Or do you have it?" She whirled to face Catwoman.

“And here I thought we could be friends,” Catwoman quipped. Red Claw punched her in the stomach. "Its fake. Someone beat both of us to the ruby." She was hurt, but not too hurt to taunt the terrorist. 

"Fool! You know nothing!" Red Claw snarled as she backhanded her across the face. She tasted blood.The police sirens were close now. 

"Kill them." Red Claw dropped the ruby and climbed back up the rope dangling from the skylight. 

The henchmen moved toward them. Seeing his opportunity, Batman freed himself and took out the two men holding him. Taking advantage of the distraction, Catwoman slipped her captor’s grip and took him out with a well-placed leg sweep. Free and outnumbered, Batman and Catwoman glanced at each other. Without speaking but completely in agreement, they began to move. He went high when she went low, he went left when she went right. The men took punches and kicks, caught unprepared by their synchronicity. It surprised them, too - the sheer ease of their teamwork, the awareness of the other, the grace with which they fought together. 

In no time the men lay scattered around the floor like discarded dolls. They stared at each other for a moment before he spun on his heel.

"I'm going after Red Claw."

"Good idea."

"No," he said, pulling his grappling gun from his belt. 

"No?"

"Stay here."

"Do I look like a Robin to you?" she scoffed. He ignored her and shot his grapple through the busted skylight. She unwound her whip from her waist and followed.

 

@@@@@@ 

 

He chased Red Claw’s helicopter across a few rooftops as it gained speed and height. Catwoman was close at his heels. He hated how aware he was of her every move - it was a distraction, and distractions could get him killed. There wasn’t time to lose her. _Focus_. He clenched his jaw and fired his grapple at the bottom of the helicopter. As it made contact, he felt something tighten around his ankle. It was her whip. She innocently batted her eyes at him as the city fell away below them. 

“And you thought I couldn’t keep up,” she teased. 

“I can’t work if you dislocate my ankle,” he growled. In five simple movements she scaled him like a jungle gym and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. Having her wrapped around him was going to slow down his reaction time. So was the scent of her perfume. 

_Focus_ , the Bat in his head hissed again. No time for human distractions. He is The Bat, The Night, it simply wouldn’t do. He focused on the tangible - the temperature had dropped 7 degrees since he’d left the Batmobile. The red-tinged sky told him snow was imminent. Pressing a button, he began to reel in the grapple’s cord and pull them towards the helicopter. They were almost at the fuselage when Red Claw’s men began to shoot. 

They swung wildly, using their momentum and the wind’s effect on the bullets to avoid getting hit. It was no use. Catwoman grunted in his ear as a bullet tore into her upper arm. He hissed as he felt lead bury into his thigh.

“There’s too many of them!” she cried as one of the henchmen took aim. They were dangling high above heavily forested ground, the city fading as the pilot picked up speed and headed out to sea. Were they close to the Manor? The twisting and turning had thrown off his bearings. Tiny ice pellets hit him in the face and scratched at his exposed skin. If they were to drop, they’d certainly die. Their odds of survival weren’t much better if they stayed where they were. Fear clutched at him. Fear for himself and fear for her. Selina. She shouldn’t even be here. If he had only confronted her earlier or if Veronica hadn’t interrupted them at the gala...

Another bullet whizzed past his head, nicking the left ear of his cowl as it went. He assessed the situation - He could attempt to make the rest of the climb without getting shot again, take out the pilot, and then fight his way through the chopper until he cornered Red Claw. Knowing Red Claw, she would use the distraction of battling her men to get away. Tactically, entering into a closed in area without the element of surprise, while wounded, to battle an untold number of armed, trained men was foolish at best and suicidal at worst. His life didn’t matter. But Selina’s did. He couldn’t let her die this way.

“Look!” she cried, gesturing to something serpentine and glittering like black diamonds below the trees. A river. 

“Hold on!” They worked in tandem to swing their bodies into position above the river. Or what he hoped was the river. 

“Do it!” she cried and he hit the release on the grapple. They hovered for a split second before gravity yanked them toward the ground. Red Claw’s men continued to shoot, but it was no use. They were falling faster than the men could take aim.

He moved quickly as she swung around to his chest. Grabbing his cape and pulling it taunt, he tried to use it as a parachute or wings. It slowed them some, but he’d never intended it to be used at these speeds or for long distances. If he managed to survive, he told himself he’d give the cape an upgrade. 

“Don’t let go!” he yelled when the river sparkled below them. He could see the current rushing in the moonlight. At this time of year the river was usually a solid sheet of ice capable of breaking most of the bones in their bodies upon impact. Luckily, the last few weeks had been unseasonably warm. He let his cape go and rolled onto his back; his arms firmly clutching her to his chest. They clung to each other as they plunged into the freezing water; darkness enveloping them, claiming them for its own.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS CHAPTER! Last week's chapter and this week's chapter were short. To make up for that, here's a long one.

Chapter 6

 

Hands looped under her arms and pulled. Rocks scraped against her back, her suit left in tatters. She felt cold mud on her skin, ice pellets on her face. Her left arm was on fire. 

“Selina?” His voice sounded far away, like he was calling her from the end of a tunnel. 

“I’m-” she said as a coughing fit took her. 

“Sit up,” he said, his gloved hand on her scratched and battered back. 

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she said, coughing again. 

“You’re the one who wanted to go for a swim,” he said, his voice warming her body. Had Batman just made a joke? 

“What can I say? I’m drawn to sparkly things.” She smiled at him as he sat back. “Where are we?” 

“I think we’re near Bristol Township.” He grimaced as he straightened out his leg. Nothing, not even the stink of river mud, could mask the coppery scent of the blood coming from his thigh.

“You’re bleeding.” 

“So are you.” He tore strips of fabric from his cape. “Give me your arm.” Wincing, she held it out for him, pain blooming along her nerves as she moved. He wrapped her wound tightly and tied the fabric off, the force bringing tears to her eyes. Once he was done he started tearing strips of fabric for his leg.

“Let me,” she said, putting her hand out. He hesitated, just for a moment, but long enough for her to notice. He didn’t trust her. Not that she blamed him. She wrapped his wound and sat back on her heels. “Now what?” 

“We walk.” He hopped to his feet, an impressive feat for a man who had just taken a bullet to his thigh. “This way.” 

 

@@@@

 

She followed him in silence, her eyes glued to his back for fear of losing him in the dark. The snow was starting to pick up, fat flakes interspersed with hard ice pellets that stung her lips. Every ten minutes or so he would glance at the computer screen embedded in his gauntlet and adjust their course. 

When they started, he refused to limp and walked through the underbrush like he wasn’t wounded. Now, what felt like an hour into their walk, he was beginning to slow, his gait uneven. The pain was getting to him. Other people probably wouldn’t have noticed. But other people hadn’t made a hobby of studying the way his body moved. She’d forgotten how much she loved to watch him move, watch the power flow through his limbs, the strength evident in every gesture. There was a quiet grace in the way he moved, an amazing feat for a man his size. 

Pain stopped any warm feelings from surging through her body. Her arm throbbed to the rhythm of her heart and her feet had gone numb some time ago. The temperature had dropped another 10 degrees since he’d pulled her from the water. She blamed her trembling body on the cold and tried not to acknowledge the nervous fear lingering all around her. If she had just listened to him back at the museum...no. If he hadn’t shown up at all she would have had that ruby and been out of there before Red Claw showed up. It was his terrible habit of sticking his pointy nose in her business that led them here tonight. 

Of course, even if everything had gone according to plan, the ruby was still a fake. A good fake, a fake that could fetch a couple of grand off the right fence, but a fake. It didn’t make sense. If a person was clever enough to steal the ruby before the museum closed for the night, they’d want to take credit. She would, anyway. The bigger question was why a known terrorist like Red Claw would suddenly be interested in jewels. Last she heard, Red Claw was more interested in weapons of mass destruction. 

Pushing thoughts of Red Claw aside, she focused on figuring out who had the real Queen’s Ruby. This was her score and she’d be damned if someone with some acid and a little bit of luck swiped the gem under her nose. 

She shivered again as a gust of north wind his her square in the face, chapping her lips and causing her eyelashes to freeze together.

“Not that I don’t love a midnight stroll with a big strong man, but it’s a little colder than I’d like,” she said, breaking the silence that had lingered between them since they started walking. He stopped and turned to face her. “Maybe we should find shelter? I know a great way to warm both of us up.” She would never be too cold or too hurt to flirt with him.

“A few more minutes,” he said, continuing through the increasingly heavy snowfall.

Five minutes later, they entered a clearing and he stopped. 

“Well?” she asked, coming to stand beside him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. She gasped as he tightened his grip. 

“Hold on,” he said, his voice low and thick. His grapple gun was in his hand and he fired just as the Batplane whizzed overhead. She clung to him, the faint, dark, inviting sent of his sweat around her as they ascended into the plane. He smelled like a man; like testosterone and sex, like calloused hands on silken skin. Like his hands, that long ago night on the roof.

They settled into the plane, he in the front seat, she in the back. The warmth of the plane welcome after the cold of the forest. 

“I’ll drop you in Gotham...” he trailed off, shaking his head to gather his thoughts. 

“Are you ok?” she asked, peering into his seat. Blood. The scent of it filled the cockpit.

“I’m fine, I...” he started before trailing off again, his head slumping forward. 

“Shit! How much blood have you lost?” She jumped into his seat, her hands searching out his wound. She applied pressure and looked into his cowled face, the pale pallor of his skin evident on his white lips. “We’ve got to get you to a doctor.”

“No...No doctors. ...Can’t...” 

“I know a guy. He’s discrete. And he owes me one. Tell me how to fly this thing and I’ll-” 

“Home.” The lights on the console started to flash. He’d engaged the auto pilot. His shouldered slumped forward, he was losing consciousness. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I know you’re not much of a conversationalist, but I need you to talk to me, ok handsome?”

“Hhnnn...” he grumbled, his head slumping forward again. 

“Come on, you can do better than that. Tell me again why I should give up a life of crime. That’s a good one.” 

“You won’t listen,” he snapped, showing he still had some life in him yet. 

“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll give it all up and become a photographer.” Her knuckles were white from the strain of applying a vice grip to his thigh. She would not let go.

“Funny,” he mumbled. 

“I’ll invite you to my exhibit opening.” He didn’t respond. “...Batman?” she whispered, terrified. Tears welled in her eyes.

“What would you photograph?” he slurred, his lips somehow paler than before. She didn’t know how to answer. Photography wasn’t something she’d ever been interested in, she’d just made it up to keep him conscious and talking. 

“The Gotham Bridge. I always liked it. I think it was built in 1899?” Words spilled from her lips. She was rambling, she knew, but she didn’t care. 

“1901,” he said, a know-it-all showoff even in disorientation. “It was designed by Amadeus K. Arkham.” 

“I’m not familiar with him,” she said, her hands still gripping his thigh, her eyes never moving from his face. As long as she could keep him talking. “Tell me about him?” To both their surprise, he did. 

 

@@@@@

 

The Batplane piloted itself into the cave and touched down smoothly. Alfred stood at the ready, having tried and failed to raise Batman during the flight. Whatever was waiting wasn’t good. The cockpit opened. 

“He needs medical attention!” Catwoman said when she saw him standing there. 

“I’m fine,” Batman said, standing. Her hands never left his thigh. “I just need-” He passed out. Alfred caught one side of him before he tumbled out of the plane, Catwoman clutching the other. Alfred’s calm hazel eyes met fevered green. 

“Would you be so kind as to assist me in carrying him to the medical bay?” She nodded. They moved him onto a gurney. Alfred was wearing latex gloves and a surgical mask before she could blink. 

“He was shot, he’s lost a lot of blood. I think the bullet is still in his leg-” She was babbling, the physical effects of the night starting to set in. Alfred made a mental note of her state before focusing on Bruce. She’d need medical attention after this was over. He pulled Batman’s gauntlet off and inserted an IV line, whole blood flowing from the bag into his veins. 

“Don’t fret, Miss. I’m rather adept at tending to him after his evening excursions,” he said, as he expertly removed the suit’s armored plating to expose Batman’s thigh. The armor had saved him, sending the bullet into the side of his thigh instead of directly into the center. Alfred’s thin hands - delicate hands for a man - moved at lightning speed. 

“Can I help?” she asked. Glancing up, he was unprepared for what he saw - her worried eyes locked on Batman’s slightly parted lips, her fingers lingering almost close enough to touch the skin on his arm. Her mouth was drawn into a worried pout. The concern on her face was real. As was the care in her eyes. He hadn’t expected...

“Yes,” he began, his voice lost. He cleared his throat. “Put on those gloves and hold this stitch.” 

 

@@@@@ 

 

Blood circled the stainless steel drain as she shakily scrubbed her skin clean. The bullet had nicked an artery but it had also saved his life - it had been lodged in his leg and had slowed the blood to a trickle. Had it gone clean through he would have bled out in the forest. 

“Miss, you must allow me to treat your wounds as well,” Alfred said, gesturing to a clear gurney. It was hard to see...hard to understand what was happening... Batman needed the help, not her. But she was so dizzy. And cold. She hadn’t noticed the cold before. Her body shook and she clutched the sink for balance. 

“I...what about Batman?...He's hurt...” she said, her knees giving out. Everything was murky. “I can’t...will...will he be ok? He has to be ok.” She felt metal - the gurney? - on her back. A light shone down on her face.  

“Just relax,” the accented voice said.

“...just let him be ok..” she whispered before the world went black. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_One Year Earlier_

They jumped and twisted, flipped and swung across the glittering city, she leading, he following. It was their way, their dance, their strange flirtation. They craved nights like this, physical exertion fueling heady arousal as they used Gotham as their playground. Even now, after two years of this cat and bat across the rooftops, the giddiness of mutual attraction sent their pulses into overdrive and directed shivers through various parts of their anatomies whenever they crossed paths. 

The diamond tennis bracelet tucked safely between her breasts held no real interest for her. There was a profit to be made from fencing it, but her reasons for stealing it were two-fold. One: To keep her skills sharp, and; Two: To get his attention. Pulling a high-profile job and then dodging his attempts to apprehend her was a high unlike any other. 

For his part, though he’d never admit it, he looked forward to nights like this. Catching her crawling out of some duct work or doing a swan dive out the window of an “impenetrable” building; watching the delight run through her limbs as she floated from ledge to gutter to flag pole; it stirred a yearning deep within him, a yearning that excited him in ways he barely understood. 

“I know you can do better than that,” she taunted as she did a somersault off the First National Bank building. Gripping his cape in his fists, he followed, the smallest smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Landing lightly, she shot him a look that ran down his spine and wrapped around the most primal part of his being. Drizzle fell from the sky, coating every surface, turning the grit on the concrete to a slick mixture of oil and grime. She would come close, close enough that his fingers almost brushed her body, and then jump backwards when he went to grab her. The kicks and punches they threw weren’t intended to harm - this was a mutually unacknowledged game to them. This was _fun_. 

Cracking her whip half an inch from his nose as she dodged a batarang, she tried to jump to another rooftop. The slick surface betrayed her usually sure-footing and she slipped. He saw his chance. Strong arms wrapped around her waist as he tackled her. The sky opened as they tumbled across the roof, heavy sheets of rain descending like judgment onto the embattled city. 

They wrestled for dominance as they rolled through the accumulating water, limbs and breath entangled. When they stilled, she was straddling him, her claws at his throat and his arms pinned beneath her knees. 

“Oooh, look what I caught,” she said, dragging a claw across his chin, scratching him just enough to give him a sick jolt of pleasure. 

“Stop this,” he said, surprising himself with his detached, authoritative tone. He certainly didn’t feel detached or authoritative. He felt out of control. He felt excited. 

“Why? You’re exactly where I want you.” She leaned down, her lips full and promising as she got closer. 

“You could have caught me a dozen times tonight, but you prolonged it. Drew it out. Because you like it. Because it’s fun. Because you want this right here,” she said, indicating their positioning. 

He grunted a wordless reply but he didn’t move. She was right. He let her straddle him in the dark because he liked it. Craved it. Needed it. 

Driven by her pathological need to see how far she could push him, to see how far she could push them - she took his hand and brought it to her throat, looping his finger through the silver circle on the end of her zipper. 

“One little pull. That’s all it’ll take.” Teasing, she sat up and leaned back just enough to cause the zipper to slide down a few teeth.

Her eyes dared him. It wouldn’t take any effort at all and she’d be exposed to him, rivulets of rain rolling down her heated skin. It took all the willpower he possessed to stop his hand from pulling the zipper down. 

“Too shy?” she asked, gripping his hand. He detected a slight tremble in her fingers as she pushed his hand down, her suit opening as it went. Rain pattered on the roof, the soft roar drowning out the sound of their pounding hearts and their accelerated breathing. 

She moved back as he sat up, her knees on either side of his hips. Releasing the zipper, they sat motionless for a long, tense moment before he fisted the fabric of her suit and pulled it from her shoulders. Rain dripped from his cowl as he pushed the fabric aside, her skin breaking out in gooseflesh in the night air. The Bat had left him. He was nothing more than a man alone with a woman in the dark. 

Their lips met. The kiss gaining intensity as they abandoned themselves to it, as they allowed themselves to forget who and what they were and just exist in the rain. 

They kissed long and deep, bodies pressed together, tongues dancing. Subconsciously, she moved her hips against him as his teeth nipped at her neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty dampness of her skin. Her breath came in short staccato gasps as he kissed her through her bra, his gloved fingers gripping her hips as she bucked against him. 

The cups of her bra were pushed aside, the diamond tennis bracelet falling to the roof. Neither noticed. Soft moans filled the air as he sucked on her erect nipples. What they were doing, where they were doing it - none of it mattered. He was so hard for her. The armored protection her wore only accentuated his need to feel her. To feel her, to be inside her, if he could have that - have the sweet friction of their bodies, the scent of them mingling with the rain as her muscles gripped his most sensitive area - he’d never want anything again. 

She searched for the clasp or button that would free him from his suit and finally give them both what they’d wanted since the moment they met. To have him inside her, filling every part of her, driving her to the edge as he thrust against her, it’s all she wanted. It’s all she ever wanted. Her body quivered with need as they dry humped like teenagers in the backseat of a car. 

Intellectually, they knew they couldn’t have anything outside this moment. They couldn’t have anything other than this hot, heavy, moment, their bodies pressed together as bruises bloomed when hands gripped too hard. They couldn’t allow themselves to feel. Couldn’t indulge in oxytocin-induced fantasies of lazy mornings in bed and nights cuddling in front of a fireplace. That wasn’t for people like them. So they would take what they could, seal off their hearts and give each other the only thing they could share - their bodies.

“Yes. Oh, God, yes,” she whispered as he flipped her onto her back and pulled the rest of her suit down to her knees. He grunted in agreement against her slender neck and his hand dropped between them to free himself. 

He kissed her hard as he fumbled with his suit. Her head spun, body shaking with need and desire. Seconds before he was finally free, sirens sounded in the distance. 

He froze. 

The Bat returned as the wailing sirens plunged him back into the cold reality of his life. He wasn’t just a man anymore. He had a job. A mission. Catwoman felt him tense and she pulled back to look into his face. His mouth was a hard line, the slack of pleasure and desire gone, his shoulders shaking as he fought to get his body back under control.

“We...we can’t,” he managed as he rose to his knees.

“Right,” she said quietly, her body aching with unfulfilled need. She slid away from him as she pulled her clothes back on. They both got back to their feet. 

“I-” he said, his voice uncertain. 

“I know,” she said. She grabbed her whip and jumped from the roof, never looking back. He didn’t follow. 

Less than 24 hours later, Selina Kyle left Gotham City.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Present Day_

He grimaced as he straightened his leg, anesthesia-laced filaments threatening to pull him back into unconsciousness. This anesthesia was supposed to cut his recovery time by half and get him back on the job quicker. It was still too slow for his liking and would have to be retooled. He added it to his mental to do list along with the cape upgrade. 

Concentrating on absolutes always helped wake his brain up so he focused on the immediate - He’d been conscious for 38 groggy, disorienting minutes. Alfred had finished operating on him 3 hours and 3 minutes ago. The detour through the forest combined with the onset of dawn gave Red Claw a six hour head start. The longer he waited, the colder her trail became and the more elusive the answers. He couldn’t wait any longer. There was too much work to do. 

Forcing himself to stand, he nearly crumpled as pain shot up the left side of his body and lodged itself behind his eyes. A wave of nausea threatened to overtake him as he struggled to keep his feet beneath him. 

No, he thought, teeth grinding like steel against pavement as he willed his churning stomach to calm itself. He simply didn’t have the time for physical frailties. Fighting through was his only option. 

“I see expecting you to rest is as fruitless as always,” Alfred said casually as he descended the stairs. “So I will simply say that it is wonderful to see you on your feet again, sir.” 

Bruce shot him a glare as took his few first unsteady steps. It could be a lot worse - the bullet could have shattered the bone. Again. 

As he shook off the rest of the drugs, it all started to come back. Catwoman. In the cave. In _his_ cave. 

“Where is she?” he demanded. Alfred arched one thin eyebrow to let Bruce that his rudeness had been noted. 

“I assume you are referring to our feline-inspired guest? I provided her with necessary medical attention and she is resting comfortably in the triage center.”

“Conscious?”

“No, sir.” 

“Is she...ok?” he asked, struggling to remember what happened to them after they ascended into the Batplane. Everything after was a jumbled, pain-filled blur punctuated by her low, worried vocal tones. She had been in the pilot’s seat with him, that he remembered clearly. That, and blood. Lots of blood. How much of it was hers? 

“She’s a might bit better than you, I’d say,” Alfred said lightly, wisely not commenting on his boss’s concern for the leather-clad thief. 

“I need to review the recordings from the Batplane,” he said as he fought the limp threatening to overtake his gait. 

“May I inquire as to why?” Alfred asked, his tone indicating he knew very well why and did not approve. 

“She wasn’t blindfolded on the way here,” Bruce said as he dropped into the chair in front of the batcomputer. The older man’s glare of disapproval bored through the back of his skull. “She’s a criminal, Alfred. And if she saw something, a threat. To both of us.” 

“Criminal or no, without her applying pressure to your wound, you might very well be dead right now.” 

“Two-Face saved my life before, too. When should I ask him over for tea?” Bruce snapped as he pounded the keys harder than he intended. Sometimes Alfred didn’t know when to keep his damn mouth shut. 

“Last night I watched a severely injured woman put your well-being above her own to ensure you’d live to see another day. She deserves your gratitude, not your suspicion,” Alfred said, leaving no room for discussion. He set a cup of coffee beside Bruce and headed back up to the Manor without another word. 

Bruce rolled his eyes as he called up the AV file from the Batplane’s interior camera. What did Alfred know, anyway? He set the video to fullscreen and pressed play. 

Selina’s face filled the frame, her mascara smeared as if by an artist’s hand, a souvenir of their dip in the river. Messy and disheveled looked good on her. Her gaze, filled with concern and worry, never left his face. Not once. 

He watched her on the monitor, his throat tight, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. 

 

@@@@@@

 

The electrocardiograph beeped in time with her strong, steady heartbeat. Long eyelashes lay still against her cheeks like soft butterfly wigs. His hand twitched, then stilled, as he suppressed the urge to remove his glove and run his fingers through her thick black hair, her face from the Batplane recording fresh in his mind. 

What had she been thinking then? Was the expression simple human compassion for another person? Or was it...more? Could it be more? Could they ever have something beyond what they have now...whatever that was?

It wouldn’t be honest to say he never thought of her beyond their encounters on the rooftop. Truth be told he thought of her often, whether it be fantasies of them in bed together or a stray thought about her while entertaining another boring socialite. He even dreamed about her.

The dream was always the same - Entering the Manor’s extensive library on a cold morning. Snow fell softly outside as a fire blazed in the fireplace. There, curled up in his favorite leather chair, was Selina. Her black hair was damp, drying slowly with the slightest hint of curl. She was wearing his clothes - an oversized white tee shirt, black sweatpants cinched tight at the waist, white socks. The clothes overwhelmed her body but instead of finding it ridiculous, he found it endearing. Cute. Sexy. 

A steaming cup of tea rested in her elegant hands as a small black kitten dozed contentedly on the armrest of the chair. Her face lit up like Broadway when she saw him, her smile dazzling and bright.

It was a moment from a life he wouldn’t mind living. 

Rustling from behind him broke through his thoughts. 

“How much anesthetic did you give her?” he asked without turing around. 

“The recommended dosage. Unlike you, most people want to ensure they remain unconscious whilst one removes a bullet from an extremity.” Alfred answered, stepping forward to examine the saline solution dripping into her veins via IV. 

“How long before she regains consciousness?” 

“45 minutes.” 

Bruce nodded once, turbulent thoughts churning through his mind. Give her more drugs and get her back to her hotel room before she could regain consciousness? Or take his chances and keep her here? Getting her unconscious body into a busy hotel in the middle of the day could pose more of a problem than an awake, alert Catwoman in the Batcave. Or an awake, alert, undeniably sexy Selina Kyle back with him after a year-long absence. God, he’d missed her. 

He weighed his options. Neither were good. If only he’d been able to lose her during the chase in the city.

“Let me know when she’s conscious,” he said, his decision made. Hopefully he didn’t live to regret this.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_One Year Earlier_

Water dripped onto the scuffed hardwood floors as she entered her apartment. The rain hadn’t let up since she’d left him on the roof - getting home had been more treacherous than anticipated due to the poor visibility and seemingly endless acres of slick brick. 

Shaking, she slammed the window closed and leaned against the curtains, paying little mind to the water clinging to her suit like a sin. The unshakable tremble in her limbs wasn’t from the cold. It was from him. From what they had almost done on that roof. From how angry she was at herself for letting it get that far. 

Isis meowed at her as she entered, hopping down from her favorite sleeping spot on the arm of the couch to sit just outside the puddle of water pooling around Selina’s feet, her tail curled around her dainty body. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she grumbled to the cat, kicking her boots off and leaving a trail of waterlogged clothes from the window to the shower. 

It never should have gone that far. It was supposed to be a game, a game they’d stopped playing a long time ago. Bracing her hands against the tile, ice cold water pouring over her body until her lips were blue and her teeth chattering.

In the beginning all she wanted was a taste of him. She wanted to taste his lips, to taste justice in its purest form. The first time they kissed, she shocked him by pressing her lips to his as he tried to slap a pair of hilariously-shaped bat handcuffs onto her wrists. He tasted of salted caramel. That surprised her. The shock allowed him to subdue her. For a little while. 

That should have been the end. 

Then there were the light touches over broad shoulders or curved hips, then deep kisses that bruised their lips, then...whatever had just happened out on the roof. It would never be enough. She’d always want more. 

Lately, she wanted more than their game across the city or his kisses in the dark. Who was he behind that mask? Could they have more than heated flirtation facilitated by costumes and rooftops? 

Wrenching the faucet closed, she ran a towel roughly across her body, rubbing so hard with the terrycloth her skin was as red as an overripe tomato when she was done. This - them - it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. As electric as their chemistry was, she needed to think of herself. Relationships were not for her, they never had been. Especially relationships with masked men who would be more than willing to turn her over to the GCPD for any number of her nighttime activities. She needed to remember that Selina Kyle didn’t pull herself out of poverty by bending to the whims of men, no matter how well they kissed. 

Maybe she just needed a break from Gotham. A break from all the familiar places. A break from him. 

In her bedroom in nothing but her panties, she hit the speed dial on one of her burner phones. “Jimmy” - she knew that wasn’t his real name - answered. 

Jimmy was a guy who worked for another guy who worked for yet another guy who sometimes hired her to do jobs. Simple stuff - lift documents, steal data, etc. Nothing difficult. The last job he’d offered was in Prague. She originally said no, but...

“You still need someone to house sit for your friend?” she asked, using the established code. 

“Yeah. You available?” 

“When do you need me?” she answered, throwing her suitcase onto her bed. Isis’s eyes narrowed when she saw the bag. With her nose proudly in the air, she sauntered out of the room, her displeasure evident with every swish of her tail. 

“24.” 24 hours.

“I’ll be there.” She hung up without another word and tossed the burner on the bed. Picking up her real cell, she scrolled through the contacts before tapping on the one she was looking for. 

“Lola? It’s Selina. I need a favor...No, nothing like that...I need you to watch Isis for awhile...”

 

@@@@

 

_Present Day_

Everything hurt. The metallic taste of blood lingered on her back molars while the stink of dried river muck emanated from her tangled hair. She groaned and rolled over, pushing the soft cotton blanket aside. She was on a gurney, blinding light shining down on her, wires monitoring her vital signs. Taking a quick assessment, she saw she had been stripped of her costume and wrapped in a hospital gown. The strings holding the back closed were tied with neat bows. 

“Good morning, Miss. How are you feeling?” The older gentleman from the night before smiled kindly at her. Immaculate. That was the only word she could think to describe him. The hair on his head was combed backwards with military precision and the shine on his shoes was so spotless they glinted like mirrors. He smelled of sandalwood and freshly baked cookies. 

Her arm radiated pain with each move and her back stung like she’d peeled all the skin off. It must have happened when her suit ripped open on the river rocks as he pulled her from the water. Him.

“...Batman...Is he...?” she managed, her tongue dry like sandpaper. 

“Not to worry, Miss, he’ll be along shortly. Come, drink this.” He handed her a glass of cool water, which she immediately drained. The man smiled, well-worn creases appearing around his youthful hazel eyes. He was charismatic and charming, just being near him put her at ease. Strange to find him here surrounded by damp granite and restless bats. 

“How are you feeling?” Batman’s baritone voice reverberated through the steel gurney as he emerged from the shadows in that way of his. He fought a limp as he walked. The older gentleman nodded to her once before leaving them. 

“How long was I out?” 

“Four and half hours.” She groaned again and swung her legs over the side of the metal table, every move sending jolts of pain across her tender back. Planting her legs on the floor, she attempted to stand. It was no use. Her legs were jelly. She started to fall.

Then his arm was around her midsection, supporting her. 

“Careful. The anesthetic is powerful. It’ll take some time to wear off.” The table shook as she clung to it for balance.

“My kingdom for a shower,” she mumbled as she tried to steady her shaking knees. 

“Over there,” he said, gesturing toward a door she hadn’t seen a moment ago. Taking a moment to survey the area, she couldn’t believe that he actually hung out in a cave. A specially renovated cave with a bathroom and a triage center, but a cave all the same. Fitting. 

“Where’d that charming gentleman go?” 

“Away,” he said, as stoic as ever. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 

“Glad you’re still the sparkling conversationalist that I remember,” she said sarcastically. “Is he your father?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uh huh.” Dropping the subject, she took a step towards the bathroom. Her legs wobbled and her head spun. She gripped the table again. “You weren’t kidding about those drugs.” 

“Here,” he said, taking her arm around his shoulder. 

“You’re not going to carry me?” she asked, using her best damsel in distress voice. 

“Not on this leg.” With his support, her steps became stronger as they moved. By the time they reached the bathroom she felt less like she was walking on putty. She steadied herself on the doorframe as he let her go. She missed his arms instantly.

“Will you be ok?” he asked as she took a few tentative steps into the brightly lit masculine bathroom. He was lingering.

Nodding, she tried to untie the bows at her back, biting her lip to prevent her from hissing in pain as she moved. Looking weak in front of him was worse than reeking of dried blood and river mud. 

“Let me.” The tenor in his voice made her forget the pain dancing across her nerves. There were a few barely perceptible tugs on the fabric of the gown before the cool air stung at her cuts. 

“Is my back-”

“Just scrapes.” His low, gentle voice washed over her. “My friend took the liberty of cleaning and repairing your suit. I’ll ask him to leave it on the counter for you.” 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She could feel him at her back, feel his energy mingling with hers in a small space between their bodies. Her heart was pounding against her ribs so hard it was liable to burst through her chest at any moment. 

Damn him. Damn him for reducing her to this with nothing more than his presence. For the first time since she’d arrived in Gotham, she questioned the wisdom of returning. 

“About the ride here-” 

“I don’t know where I am, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know. If you hadn’t...” He trailed off, taking a step back, breaking the tension tethering their bodies together. 

“I didn’t do anything,” she said, waving it away with her hand. He nodded and disappeared from the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Stories detailing the museum break in filled the Batcomputer’s screen. The story had even landed on the front page of the Gotham Gazette. Famously jaded, the Gazette had stopped reporting on most city crime years ago simply because there was too much of it. In an editorial explaining the decision, the editor famously wrote that a day without crime in Gotham would be newsworthy. But even they jumped at the chance to run a story about a terrorist organization attempting to steal a priceless gem.

“We made the front page,” Selina said, as she came up beside him. Her costume looked better than new. 

“The Daily Planet didn’t mention the ruby was a fake,” she said after scanning an article.

“None of the articles did. Which means the police are deliberately withholding that information from the press-”

“Or they don’t know,” she said. 

“Or you were wrong.” 

“I’m not wrong. It’s a good fake and it could have gone unnoticed if the lighting wasn’t so wonky.”

“Is that an industry term?” he teased.

“Bigger question - Why did Red Claw want it in the first place? She’s a terrorist, not a thief.” Distain dripped from her voice. 

“Sullied your noble profession, has she?” he asked lightly, unable to stop himself from teasing her again. He shouldn’t flirt with her but he forgot his extensive list of reasons why whenever she smiled.

“He gets shot and suddenly he has a sense of humor,” she shot back, smiling playfully at him. 

He hit a few keys and Red Claw’s face appeared next to a dossier.

“Red Claw has occasionally gone after items like this before. Paintings, sculptures, gems - if they’re connected to Kaznia, no matter how tangentially, she’s interested. However, no such link exists between Queen’s Ruby and Kaznia. It was discovered in Myanmar in 1906 and has been privately owned by British or American collectors ever since.”

“So why go after it?” she asked, studying the pictures on the screen. He called up hacked security footage from a rooftop camera located next to the museum. Red Claw’s men could be seen breaking the skylight, dropping something through the hole (the grenade, he guessed) and then repelling into the building. 

“That’s the museum?” she asked, her brow furrowing with doubt.

“From last night.”

“Someone disabled the security system before they arrived.” 

“You?” he asked.

“Don’t insult me. There’s no challenge in getting past a disabled system. The real artistry comes from getting in and out through a live system.”

“Artistry?” he asked, incredulous. 

“That’s the trouble with art. It means different things to different people,” she said, playfully winking at him. God, he’d missed her. 

“How do you know the security system was disabled?”

“Because the system in that area is a containment system. If they’d busted the skylight while it was still armed, we would have been caught inside.” 

He cocked his head, waiting for her to continue. 

“Instead of triggering a silent alarm like in other areas of the building, this area is designed to lock down if an alarm is triggered. Once the alarm is triggered, steel panels slide over the windows, bomb-proof doors slam closed, and bars cover the air vents. And it all happens within 6.3 seconds of a trigger, making it impossible to get out. Until the boys in blue show up, anyway.” 

He studied her. Breaking the law was something she did because she could. Because she wanted to. Because she was good at it. But she treated her jobs seriously and did her homework. He admired the hell out of that, which bothered him in ways he couldn’t quite articulate. 

“A disabled system doesn’t explain the police call I heard. My sources indicate that there is no discernible cause for the call - no tripped sensors of any kind and none of the guards reported suspicious activity or placing a call to the GCPD. And you weren’t on the security feed.” He looked at her. “Looped thirty second playback?” 

She shrugged. 

“Just because I like a challenge doesn’t mean I ignore security cameras.” 

Mentally he flipped through the small catalogue of evidence. A mystery alarm. The fake ruby. The disabled alarm system. Red Claw’s sudden appearance.

He went back to the moment Red Claw appeared at the crime scene. Catwoman taunting Red Claw about being beaten to the ruby. Red Claw calling her a fool. Red Claw turning the gem over in her hands and then becoming angry...turning it over - 

“Red Claw expected the ruby to be a fake,” he said as it hit him.

“You’re sure?” 

“She turned it over. She was looking for something.” He stood and walked over to his lab equipment. Liquids of varying colors bubbled in flasks and beakers and tubes. Three computers ran analysis on a beaker full of blue liquid containing the sample of corrosive residue from the gem case. The analysis wouldn’t be complete for awhile.

“Let’s go back tonight and we’ll see if we can find anything,” she said. He stopped himself before he nodded in agreement. He couldn’t work with her. She was a thief and she couldn’t be trusted. Plus he couldn’t think straight when she was around, especially after he’d seen her face on the video (and her perfect ass when he untied her hospital gown). That look made him believe there was something in his future beyond the darkness of the cave and the pain of his parents’ deaths.

The Bat was harassing him, insisting he do something, anything to get her to hate him, to make her storm out and put an end to it right now so he could get back to work. Everything else was begging him to make her stay. She was smart. She was quick. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. She was still a criminal, but she was proving useful...

“As long as you stay on my side of the law you could be beneficial to this investigation.” he said, keeping his voice as monotone as possible.

“Don’t use up your romantic lines all at once, handsome,” she teased, smirking. He almost smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sparkling like Christmas lights, the Queen’s Ruby rested safely in its plexiglass case. The “wonky” lighting noted by Selina the night before hadn’t changed. Either the museum was purposely displaying a fake, which was unlikely, or they had no idea it was a fake. What did that have to do with Red Claw? 

The museum’s staff had done an amazing job cleaning up the room after last night’s events. He could barely tell that this room had been the scene of a break in and an explosion less than 24 hours before. They’d even replaced the skylight. But the extensive cleaning didn’t mean all the evidence had been wiped away. Using the infrared scanner built into his cowl, he examined the room for any additional traces of the unidentified corrosive that had eaten through the display’s wires. Nothing. Not even a drop on the floor next to the case. Whoever had switched out the gems had been careful. 

Catwoman slid down the rope he’d left hanging from the open skylight. 

“Anything?” he asked as he took a closer look at the case holding the ruby. Catwoman had insisted on examining the main security switch after he disabled it. 

“No cut wires, no gadgets to bypass the system, nothing. Not even a scratch or dent on any of the wires where an electricity diverter could have been placed. Whoever disabled the system last night was thorough and left no trace.” 

“The lighting hasn’t been changed on the display case,” he said, changing the subject. “And the local security system wiring has been replaced.” He gestured toward the ruby with his pen light 

“May I?” she asked. Grabbing his pen light, she held it above the ruby. With the additional lighting, the ruby lost its dark red coloring. “That explains a lot.” 

He waited for her to continue.

“Proper lighting would’ve been a dead giveaway of a fake. Rubies from the Mogok valley - where this one was discovered - are typically blood red. This? This looks like someone took a red crayon and turned it into a hunk of plastic.”

“The case’s lighting is intentional,” he said.

“That’d be my guess.”

“Then someone with access to the exhibit knows it’s a fake.” 

She nodded, handing the penlight back to him. Reaching in his utility belt, he secured a small device to the side of the podium. 

“What is that?” 

“Localized electromagnetic pulse emitter. Disrupts the local security system.” Tiny red lights flashed for fifteen seconds before glowing green. 

“I prefer my way,” she said, flashing her diamond-tipped claws. He carefully lifted the plexiglass case surrounding the ruby and set it down. Pressing button in his gauntlet, he detached the gauntlet computer.

“It’s a phone,” she said, surprised, as he rotated the computer in his hands. He started taking pictures of the ruby and its display case for the case file. “Smart,” she said. She was impressed. He tried not to let it go to his head. 

He snapped the phone back into his gauntlet and picked up the ruby. Turning it over in his gloved hands, he tried to think like Red Claw. He ran his gloved fingers over the smooth sides of the gem. 

“What are you looking for?”

He didn’t answer as he continued to slide his fingers over each face of the ruby. 

“Let me, my gloves are thinner.” She took it from him and ran her fingertips over the ridges. Her brows knotted together. “Here. There’s an imperfection...a seam, maybe?” She picked at it with the claw on the end of her elegant pointer finger. A compartment slid open. It was empty. He pulled one of the empty plastic test tubes he used to collect evidence from him belt. It fit in the compartment perfectly. Everything started to make more sense. 

“Whatever was in this compartment was Red Claw’s target. But it was gone before she arrived.” He put the gem back into its case and studied Catwoman for a moment. When he arrived on the scene Catwoman had just reached the ruby. She hadn’t had a chance to take whatever was in the compartment. Then how did she fit in? “Who knew you were pulling this job?” he asked. 

She shot him a look.

“Who knew?” he asked again.

“No one. I’m not some newbie amateur.”

“You’re sure?”

“How is this relevant?” He didn’t answer. Cold green eyes studied him. Inhaling, she unwound her whip from her waist. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling herself back up the rope they’d used to get into the museum. She didn’t flinch as she climbed, never showing the pain her wound must be causing. He admired that. A lot.

“Where are we going?” he asked when he reached the roof.

“To see a friend.” 

 

@@@@@

 

The sallow glow from the gallery of computer screens reflected off the man’s dirty glasses. He toggled between programs and screens as he typed furiously, lines of code multiplying by the second. Suddenly, a thin leather cord wrapped around his throat.

“I don’t have anything worth stealing,” he said, slowly setting his palms on either side of his keyboard.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“Catwoman,” he croaked, sitting back in his chair to get some slack. 

“Calculator.” Calculator, A.K.A. Noah Kuttler, renowned hacker and information broker to every crook and criminal within a thirty mile radius of Gotham. Like a dealer of rare collectibles, Calculator dealt in exclusive information.

“I need to know everything you know about what happened at the Gotham Museum last night.”

“Damn, right to it, huh?” he said as she relaxed the whip.

“I’m a busy gal,” she said nonchalantly.

“Maybe you should Google it. See, there are these things call ‘news blogs‘ that will provide all the information you’re looking for.” The whip tightened again.

“You know as well as I do that what I want to know won’t be on Google. You’re going to tell me what Red Claw was after.” 

“Even if I knew what you’re babbling about-” 

“Don’t play dumb. You know everything that happens in this town. Unless you’ve lost your touch? Maybe you’re obsolete and I should be talking to someone else?” she asked, digging at him where it hurts. Nothing bothered him more than the thought of someone else scooping him on intel. 

“What makes you think I’d tell you anything?” She spun his chair, pinned his hands to the armrests, and got in his face with her nose millimeters from his. 

“Because if you don’t, he’ll break your arms.” Batman lurked in the corner, his mass large and intimidating. 

“You brought your fucking boyfriend here?” he shrieked, incredulous. The corner of Catwoman’s mouth curled into a smirk.

“You really think he didn’t already know you were here?” she hissed in his ear as her diamond claws pinched his skin. “Haven’t moved hideouts in years and you didn’t even notice when I looped your rooftop camera feed. Maybe you have lost your touch.” 

“Go to hell,” he growled. She smiled and dug her claws harder into his arm. A strangled cry of pain escaped his lips.

“You owe me, Calculator. Remember when you sold me out to that meta for a few grand?” 

“And you broke my jaw for that!” She dug her nails in harder, breaking the skin. “Ok! Ok! Rumor is Red Claw was after a designer biotoxin that some Kaznian loyalist had gotten his hands on.” 

“Do you have a name?” Batman asked, speaking for the first time since they left the museum. 

“No.” 

Catwoman released her hold on Calculator as Batman stepped closer. She knew what he wanted her to do without looking at him.   
Batman grabbed Calculator by the throat and picked him up, his feet dangling from the floor. Calculator’s panicked eyes darted between the costumed figures.

“The name,” Batman growled, slamming him into the bank of computer monitors lining the wall.

“I’d tell him,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against a table holding more screens. 

“N-N-Nardoc Sera. He works at the museum!”

“You aren’t telling me everything,” Batman growled. Catwoman glanced at him, her eyes never betraying her surprise. “I think you know more about the ruby than you’re letting on.” 

“He just doesn’t want to be helpful tonight, does he?”

“Doesn’t look that way,” Batman said, his grip tightening. 

“Some artist in the East End was working on a top secret project for Sera,” Calculator whimpered.

“And?” Catwoman asked.

“That’s all I know! I swear!” Batman held him aloft for a few more seconds before throwing him back into the chair. Calculator gasped, shaking. By the time he regained his breath, they were gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

Dead ends. Nothing but one dead end after another. Every lead they had was proving itself to be a complete waste of time. That’s the nature of investigative work, he knew, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

Nardoc Sera was a ghost - lost in the wind 3 days before the break in. His apartment was empty and his bank accounts untouched. Given the lack of public records and a complete absence of social media profiles, Nardoc Sera had existed for a short 6 month period when he worked at as the assistant to the museum’s gem curator. 

The curator was another dead end. The stereotypical spacey professor type, he didn’t even realize Nardoc Sera hadn’t shown up for work for the past four days. He was shocked to learn about the fake gem, but not as shocked as they all were when he discovered the real ruby hidden in a battered cardboard box in the back of the gem safe.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have held on to it for safe keeping,” she said, stretching against the passenger seat of the Batmobile. 

“Right,” he said sarcastically, weaving in and out of traffic. The Bat Signal shone bright in the autumn sky as he sped toward GCPD headquarters. The mystery surrounding the ruby was an elaborate ruse to facilitate the transfer of a biotoxin to Red Claw. Then why hadn’t it been there? Who got to it first? 

Yanking hard on the wheel, the car spun to the right and ended up perfectly parallel parked behind the police headquarters. Due to safety concerns and needless wear and tear on the car he rarely used that move...but he wanted to do it tonight. Maybe he was showboating. Maybe he wanted to impress her.

“You handle all your equipment that well?” she asked, sex dripping from every syllable. He wouldn’t rise to the bait, but he was pleased that it worked.

“Stay here.” 

“You don’t expect that will actually work, do you?” she asked, her arms crossed. 

“Gordon knows you’re responsible for that string of West Side robberies two years ago. And so do I.” 

The West Side robberies were a string of at least a dozen open cases involving undetectable break ins focused on high end goods. 

“Prove it, handsome,” she purred, rising to her knees and getting into his space. She knew he couldn’t. He lacked the physical evidence to tie her (or anyone) to the crimes. It was infuriating. “I’m your partner on this case. It’s in your best interests to vouch for me. I am on your side, after all.” 

“For now,” he pointed out. 

“Exactly,” she said, pleased with herself. With a sigh, he climbed out of the car. 

 

@@@@@

 

“How long have you known?” Batman asked, flipping through the file folder. 

“Since yesterday,” Jim Gordon said, taking a drag off his cigarette, his eyes never leaving Catwoman. “Feds have been playing this one real close to the vest for obvious reasons. They wouldn’t have told us at all if not for Red Claw’s little stunt last night. Rumor says this is what she’s looking for.”

Catwoman played coy as Gordon glared at her. It had only taken a few words from Batman to get Gordon to accept her presence. But acceptance didn’t mean he liked it.

Batman’s brow furrowed under his cowl as he scanned the file. One month earlier, an experimental level 4 biotoxin was stolen from a government-run germ lab 30 miles outside the city. He was certain Nardoc Sera was involved. 

“And I suppose you don’t know anything about what went down last night,” Gordon sneered, his eyes narrowing as Catwoman casually leaned against the Bat Signal. 

“I know what you know,” she said, smiling, her voice innocently sweet. She was taunting him, playing with him. 

“I’m sure,” Gordon spat. He turned to Batman. “Can I have a word? In private?” Catwoman shrugged her shoulders and sauntered to the far corner of the roof, purposely swinging her hips with every step. Gordon flicked his cigarette butt to the ground with disgust. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

“Meaning?” Batman asked, his voice flat and neutral, though his body was as tight as a string. 

“She’s one of the most notorious thieves in Gotham.” 

“She’s here to help.” 

“And I’m the Pope,” Gordon said, his voice louder than intended. He took a deep breath and lit another cigarette.

“I thought you quit,” Batman said, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Don’t change the subject. We both know she’s responsible for all those robberies a few years ago.”

“There’s no evidence to support that,” Batman said. Gordon scoffed.

“There’s no way in hell she just happened to turn up again on the same night someone tried to steal one of the rarest gems in the world.” Gordon took a deep breath. “Look, I get it. She looks damn good in that suit-”

“Are we done here?” Batman snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. Gordon dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath his shoe. His eyes were hard, harder than Batman had ever seen them. 

“Yeah. We’re done.” 

He watched Batman and Catwoman disappear from the roof. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Gordon whispered again, his breath visible in the cold air. 

 

@@@@

 

“That went well,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat of the Batmobile. 

“You didn’t have to taunt him,” he said as the roof slid closed.

“I did no such thing.”

“Uh huh.” He tossed the folder onto the dash. She picked it up and paged through. 

“We’re not going to try to shake down this government facility are we?” she asked, tossing the folder back onto the dash. That would usually be his next move but he had his reservations. It surprised him that she would have reservations as well. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because they will have stepped up security after last night. They won’t relax it for at least three weeks. I’m certain we could get in if we wanted, but I’m not sure it would be the smartest move at this point.” 

Wordlessly, he stared at her. Why was she in the museum that night? Was it a coincidence? Or was she working with Sera? Could he really trust her on this?

She flipped through the case file again, her lips pursed in thought. His gut was telling him he could trust her. At least, he thought that’s what his instincts were saying. He wasn’t sure why he was allowing this partnership to continue...but then there was that part of him that said he knew very well why. 

“The lab’s out. I have another idea, but I’m going to have to blindfold you.” 

She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows.

“Sounds fun,” she said, grinning wickedly at him. His body went hot. Maybe Gordon was right.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

She rubbed her tired eyes and stifled a yawn. They’d been at this for hours, pouring over security footage from the lab where the biotoxin had been stolen. The time code on the moved as she fast forwarded through the security footage at four times normal speed but nothing was happening on the screen. 

“This place is a regular Times Square,” she mumbled sarcastically. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be looking for. Something out of the ordinary. Something the FBI had managed to miss. 

That she was helping him at all was ridiculous. She should be working on stealing the real ruby, not scrolling through footage of a nearly empty hallway. Tracking down dead end leads was a waste of her time. Except he was just so...him. She’d missed that. Plus, there was that “I’ll have to blindfold you” thing that made her toes curl in her boots with giddy anticipation. Too bad he meant “I have to blindfold you to take you back to my weird cave with the nice bathroom.” Sighing, she tried to focus. 

He hadn’t told her how he’d managed to secure almost six weeks worth of security footage from a top secret government laboratory in less time than it takes most people to order a pizza. However he did it, she was positive it wasn’t legal. Funny how he was so willing to bend the law to suit his own needs. She glanced at him - he was fidgeting as he scrolled though biotoxin files names that looked like gibberish. They’d hit another dead end. 

“Batman, come in,” a female voice came through the speakers of the Batcomputer. 

“Any progress, Oracle?” he asked, leaning back in the high-backed captain’s chair. 

“Some. Not nearly enough.” 

“Great,” he said sarcastically. 

“It’s the government. If we don’t want them to realize we’re poking around I need to take precautions. But I’m actually calling because I have some information about your mystery artist.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“She goes by the name Effervescent. Her specialty is sculpting complex objects out of plastic. She’s been a prop sculptor for several East End theaters for over a decade. However - she’s a gambling addict. My sources say she got in too deep with a small time bookie and he requested she sculpt him a rather large ruby to pay off her debt.” 

“This bookie have a name?” he asked. Selina stood beside him, hanging on every word.

“Gerry Pavloski. He’s only been in Gotham about six months, sounds like he’s trying to establish himself,” Oracle said. 

“What perfectly coincidental timing,” Selina said as they exchanged a look.

“You have a description?” Batman asked. 

“Better. I have a picture. Sending it now,” A grainy photo of a dark haired man wearing sunglasses filled the screen. Batman clicked on a file on his desktop and Nardoc Sera’s picture popped up. A few keystrokes later, the Batcomputer verified what they already knew - Nardoc Sera and Gerry Pavloski were the same man. 

“Send me Effervescent’s location. I’ll question her tonight.”

“It would be a waste of time.”

“Explain.”

“She’s in a coma. Hit and run about two weeks ago, both she and her wife are in critical condition at Gotham General. Their place is clean - I had a mutual associate check it out.”

“Who?”

“Nightwing.”

Batman said nothing as he stared at the picture of Gerry Pavloski AKA Nardoc Sera.

“So I hear you’ve got a new partner.” Oracle prodded, teasing him. Selina could practically feel him blush. She grinned.

“Call me when you’ve got something on the lab. Batman out.” 

“Secret government security footage. A mysterious woman doing something that sounds a lot like hacking into a government computer system. My my, Mr. Bat, aren’t we full of surprises,” she said as he swiveled his chair around to face her. Arms were crossed over his chest, and his mouth immobile. 

“Your point?” 

“You break the law so casually when it suits your needs yet you’d rip Gotham apart to find someone if they’d done the same.”

“It’s not the same,” he said.

“Rationalize it however you need to, handsome. We both know the truth.” He spun his chair back around. 

“Get back to work. We may have connected Sera to the ruby but we still need to connect him to the biotoxin.” Her body was stiff and she was bored out of her skull. If she had watch an empty hallway for another hour she was going to scream. 

She spun his chair back around. 

“I think we could both use a little...physical activity,” she said, her voice seductive as she slid into his lap.

“Selina-” he began.

“You got a gym in this thing?” she asked, cutting him off. He nodded once. “Let’s spar. Neither one of us is getting anywhere. Getting the blood flowing will do us both a world of good.” 

The corners of his mouth ticked upward. A smile. An honest to God smile. Her heart pounded in her chest.

 

@@@@@@

 

He pinned her to the mats, her arms locked to her sides. 

“You keep letting your guard down on your left,” he said. 

“I don’t remember asking for pointers,” she sneered, head butting him and jumping to her feet. Up instantly, he took her down with three short moves, ending with a knee to her left side. 

“And yet you need them,” he taunted. He’d forgotten how much he loved sparring with her. Lunging, she knocked him onto his back. He threw her into a pile of mats. Just when he thought she was staying down, she tackled him and they rolled across the mats, a tangle of limbs and black costumes. 

“Admit it, you like getting all sweaty with me,” she panted once they stopped rolling. He pulled them to their feet, her arms pinned between them, her upper back flush against his chest. She gasped in pain but refused to give up. 

“Why are you helping me?” he asked, breath in her ear. 

“Why are you letting me?” she snapped, slamming her heel into his knee. He buckled but didn’t lose his grip, maneuvering them so he landed atop her, her arms still immobilized. 

“What do you get out of it?” 

“Pleasure,” she purred, arching her body against his. 

“I want a real answer,” he said, his hands relaxing.

“That is a real answer, handsome,” she teased, giving him that sex-filled stare he’d fantasied about more than once.

“You came back to Gotham for the ruby. That went sideways. Instead of leaving you’ve stayed to help solve this case. Why?” 

“Maybe I like you,” she said, playing coy to distract him and stop his questions. 

“Why did you leave Gotham?” he asked, his voice quiet, low, his lips inches from hers. Her eyes flashed, anger evident. She didn’t want to talk. Not about this. Glaring, the air around them was hot and still, bat wings fluttered in the distance. She kissed him full on the lips. 

 

@@@@@

 

Soft, eager lips moved against hers as he deepened the kiss. She’d forgotten how he could do that, how the slightest touch of his lips slowed time itself. Desire rushed through her, desire she hadn’t felt since she’d left Gotham. She’d had lovers during her time away - some were a means to an end, one or two were because she wanted them. But none of them made her feel as hot and out of control as he could with nothing more than a kiss. 

As suddenly as it began, it ended. 

“If we’re going to work together, we can’t do this,” he said, a note of regret in his voice. She watched his full lips close over brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. Movie star teeth. 

A jolt of electricity surged through her body as pieces of the puzzle became whole. Years of practice kept her face emotionless. The way he kissed, her physical reaction, those bright white teeth - It was so obvious to her now. She knew. She knew who he was under that mask.

“Right,” she said, sitting up. 

“It’s not that -” he began, shutting up when he thought better of it. 

“No, no. You’re right, we’ve got to run this operation cleanly,” she said, refusing to look in his direction for fear he’d see the realization on her face. 

“What did you say?” he asked. He sounded so odd that she couldn’t help but look at him. 

“I understand that we need to keep business and pleasure separate.” 

“No. What did you say?”

“We need to run this operation cleanly?” she asked, completely bewildered by his behavior. He leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the Batcomputer before she could pull herself up off the floor. 

“Did I miss something?” she asked when she caught him. The keys clacked as he entered some terms into the search bar. Two identical invoices appeared on the screen. 

“That’s how they did it,” he said, gesturing to the screen. “The same cleaning company serviced both the lab and the museum.” They smiled at each other - the case had finally broken.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_One Year Earlier_

Underworld rumors broke one of two ways - complete fabrications or absolute truths. Being in the game for as long as he had gave him the ability to tell the difference, which is why the most recent rumor involving Catwoman’s hasty departure from Gotham bothered him. It smelled too true. 

Wearing a battered leather jacket and a dirty Gotham Knights baseball cap pulled low, he’d spent the last few weeks surveying her neighborhood. He drank foamy cappuccinos dusted with cinnamon at the cafe she was rumored to frequent. He flipped through damp magazines with curled front covers at the newsstand across the street from her building. At dusk, before he had to return to the cave to get ready to go on patrol, he’d sit in the late model sedan designated for stakeouts and watch her apartment, as the scent of fresh pork carnitas from the taco truck parked around the block filled the streets. 

This hadn’t been a part of his calculations when he decided to take up the cowl. Predicting the physical damage he could (and did) endure, projecting the financial cost of suits and gear as the years passed, foreseeing the irreparable damage to his personal life - he saw all of that coming and he had accepted it as tradeoffs for his mission. But Selina? Selina blindsided him. There was a clear divide in his crime fighting career - pre-Catwoman, where his relationship to those he chased was black and white; and post-Catwoman, where everything involving her existed in a complicated grey area he couldn’t quite understand. It was uncomfortable. And exciting.

Now she was gone. This was all his fault, wasn’t it? The roof should never have happened. But it had. Oh, God, it had. If only that siren...

Slipping out of the car just as the streetlights flickered to life, he walked casually around the back of her building. He made sure the coast was clear before shimmying up the fire escape. 

Nothing that had happened between them should have happened. Too many lingering touches and hard, fast kisses had passed between them. They hid behind their alter egos and played what amounted to a game of sexual chicken. But it wasn’t a game anymore and they both knew it. It had stopped being a game when he found himself fantasizing about her while he was fucking some socialite in the coat closet of yet another party to keep up Bruce Wayne’s reputation as a womanizing jackass. It had stopped being a game when he thought about what it would be like to eat brunch with her on a Sunday morning or walk through Gotham Park with her in the spring just as the tulips bloomed. It stopped being a game when he started thinking they could have more together outside the costumes than in them. 

Now, as he stood in her empty apartment, he saw the rumors were true. Catwoman - Selina - was gone. She had done what he couldn’t and removed herself from the situation. 

This was for the best. It had to be. He should be elated, relieved, happy. Instead, he was lonely. And alone. 

@@@@@@

 

_Present Day_

Andre Jimenez collapsed into his chair, a cold beer in his hand. After an 18-hour day the beer was well deserved. He popped the cap, the scent of hops tickling his nose. A gloved hand came down on the lip of the bottle. He looked up and found himself face to face with The Batman. 

“Holy shit.” Batman took the beer and set it down on the coffee table. Catwoman lingered by the open window. “You’re him.” 

“Mr. Jimenez,” he said. 

“I - I don’t want any trouble,” Andre said, putting his hands out to show they were empty. “I don’t have as much as a speeding ticket.” 

“You work for Sunshine Cleaning,” Batman stated, pulling his cape around his body, becoming one with the shadows in the dark apartment. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes darting from Batman to Catwoman and back. 

“You clean a laboratory located at 534 Spruce Street. Is that correct?”

“Yes?” he asked, confused. 

“You were supposed to clean the laboratory facility the night of September 12. The same night there was a break in.” 

“Look man, I told the cops everything I know. I wasn’t even there that night.”

“You were out sick,” Batman continued. “In the six years since you started working at Sunshine Cleaning, you’d never missed one day of work. Until that day. A little too convenient, don’t you think?” 

“Like I told the cops, I was si-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Batman hissed, his face centimeters from the terrified man’s. 

“Ok! Ok!” Andre sighed as he sat forward in his chair, his face in his hands. “I let a guy take my shift.”

“Who?” Catwoman asked.

“Brian Anders. He only worked with us for about four months. I thought he was a good dude, but...”

“But?” Andre looked at him. 

“Me and Brian used to talk sports, you know? Says he’s got the inside track on a few basketball games. Pay out a 100 to 1. I don’t really gamble, but it sounded like a sure thing. And with Christmas coming, I thought I could get the kids somethin’ nice with the winnings, you know? Well, wasn’t a sure thing. I lost my shirt and couldn’t pay up.” 

“Who’d you owe?” Batman asked.

“Brian’s bookie.”

“You remember a name?”

“Gerry Pavlov or Pavloski, somethin’ like that. Gerry said the only way I could pay off the debt was if I agreed to let Brian take my shift at the lab. I agreed. That was the night of the break in. Brian stuck around for a few more days, did a few more shifts, but then he stopped showing up. Haven’t seen him since.” 

“Did he do a shift at the museum?” Catwoman asked. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. We rotate crews a lot.” 

Batman nodded and headed toward the window.

“Wait - I’m not gonna get in trouble, am I?” Andre asked. “I can’t lose my job. I’ve got kids, a wife, my mom lives with us...we’re barely getting by as it is.” Catwoman froze, her eyes never leaving Batman’s cowled face. Batman shook his head.

“Far as I’m concerned, this conversation never happened.” Then he was gone. 

 

@@@@@

 

Selina gathered her things and tossed them into the open suitcase on the bed.

“This is completely unnecessary. We have several hours of work ahead of us and I’d rather not waste any more time,” Batman grumbled as he lurked in a corner.

“Is that your way of telling me to move my ass?” she teased. She didn’t expect an answer. “I’d like to brush my teeth before I spend more time scrolling through hacked surveillance footage. Maybe shower. Plus, if I’m not going to get to sleep in this bed, I’m checking out.”

There was silence as she continued her task, a task she wasn’t sure had much purpose. Why go back to the cave with him? He could leave her here and she’d be free to go after the ruby just as she originally planned. But there was something about this case, something about the strangeness of a fake ruby and a biotoxin that had her interest peaked. She could always leave after they solved the case. 

“Do you think Jimenez was telling the truth?” she asked as she zipped her bag closed.

“Yes.” He was quiet. Selina knew better. She could read his silences.

“But?” she asked. 

“It doesn’t fit Red Claw’s M.O. If her organization wanted the biotoxin, they wouldn’t go through such elaborate steps to get it.” 

“Maybe they’re changing it up.”

“Maybe,” he said, believing everything but. 

 

@@@@

 

At 10 a.m. he finally found what he was looking for. Footage of a man matching Brian Anders description casually pushing a cart down the hall near the Level 4 biohazard area. The crime itself wasn’t on camera. There was no record of anyone accessing the lab during the time of the burglary. Whoever had done this had covered their tracks. Covering tracks wasn’t Red Claw’s style. He didn’t like it. 

“I’ve been going through the files Oracle managed to hack,” she said, coming over to his work station. Oracle had been able to get past most of the protections and access the lab’s files, but there were still several higher security files she was working to get. 

“What have you got?” 

“Nothing spectacular. The facility is, from all appearances, a standard germ lab. They work with all the usual suspects - ebola, small pox, hemorrhagic fevers, etc. Passes safety inspections, no problems with containment, no record of any accidents. Yada, yada, yada.” 

“There’s got to be more in the files she hasn’t accessed yet.” 

“If there isn’t?”

“There is. Because none of this adds up.”

“Are you referring to a specific part of the infuriating puzzle or...?” she joked. Her humor was refreshing.

“If Red Claw was after something like smallpox or hemorrhagic fever, there are facilities across Europe working with these biological agents. There’s a facility in Germany that’s supposed to be the best in the world and it’s 150 kilometers from Red Claw’s alleged base of operations. It’s a hell of a lot closer than Gotham.” 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re cute for a detective?” she asked playfully.

He punched a few keys on the console to call up Oracle. As he did, the picture of Brian Anders maximized on the screen. Selina jumped to her feet.

“Wait - who is that?”

“Running cross analysis verification, but I believe that’s Brian Anders.” 

“I know him,” she said, stunned. “And his name isn’t Brian Anders.”


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Catwoman silently opened the back window to Brian Anders apartment. The putrid smell of rancid milk and stale beer hit her in the face, making her stomach twist. Foul. That was the only word for it. 

Once inside, they waded through a sea of empty beer cans and wine bottles, gingerly stepping around a bare mattress lying on the floor like a filthy island. Unopened mail and racing pamphlets were scattered across a cheap card table marred by cigarette burns. Her jaw tightened. Her father used to live like this. Most hopeless alcoholics did. 

“Gambling,” she said, gesturing to the racing pamphlets. 

“A lot of that going around,” Batman said as he searched the dirty bathroom. She searched the kitchen, rifling through cracked cupboards and sticky drawers. Most were empty save old packets of ketchup and coffee stirrers. 

“Anything?” she asked. 

“He didn’t live here alone. There are two toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet and an open box of tampons under the sink.” He ran a gloved finger along the counter, leaving a neat path through the dust. “No one’s been here in weeks.”

“Or days,” she said, sorting through a stack of unopened mail. He looked at her and she almost laughed. “Alcoholics with gambling problems aren’t usually the best housekeepers.” 

She handed him an unopened envelope with the words “FINAL NOTICE” stamped on the front in angry red ink. 

“Jamie Nguyen,” he read. “Must be the girlfriend.”

Catwoman planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the apartment. No couch, no recliner, just that old mattress and the sea of crushed Genesee brand beer cans. Her eyes narrowed and she crouched down near the refrigerator, getting her face as close to the floor as she could without actually touching it. Pulling her head up, she reached in the space between the fridge and the cabinets. 

“Never fails,” she said as she pulled an old cell phone covered in grime from its hiding place. She rubbed it on a piece of junk mail, trying to clean off the gunk, a grimace of mild disgust marring her features. “Gross.”

“How?” he asked. She smiled sadly, raw pain in her eyes just long enough for him to see it. 

“My father was a drunk. Whenever he lost anything important, which was all the time, it always ended up under the fridge. It makes sense - that’s where the cold beer is.” Her tone was light, almost jokey, as she tried to make it no big deal. 

She turned away from him and focused on turning the phone on. 

 

@@@@

 

Batman was quiet as she pressed buttons on the ancient phone. His dossier on Catwoman/Selina Kyle stated she lost both her parents at a young age. He didn’t have a lot of information about her childhood. Her mother had died (suicide) when she was 7, her father gone by the time she was 10 (drank himself to death). Then Selina herself disappeared from the public record. No school transcripts, no arrest records, no records from Child Protective Services. The only other record of anyone connected to the Kyle family he’d been able to find was for Magdalena Kyle, an orphan at The St. Jerome Emiliani Home for Children. Magdalena started living there at the age of 8. According to his records, Selina would have been 11 at the time. 

The urge to tell her that he understood what it was like to be an orphan was overwhelming. She’d hate that he’d seen a moment of vulnerability in her practiced demeanor. So he said nothing. 

“Here’s the real Brian Anders,” she said, holding up the phone. On the screen was a picture of a bald man with his face pressed close to a dark haired woman’s. Both were smiling broadly as the blue sea sparkled behind them. They looked happy. One thing was clear - this was not the man from the surveillance footage. 

“Bring that with you,” he said, gesturing to the phone.

“Where are we going?” 

“The morgue.” 

 

@@@@ 

 

Her gloved hand cupped her nose and mouth as she focused on holding back the wave of nausea threatening to overtake her. 

“Where to next? The sewer? I hear that smells great this time of year,” she said. Even in the sanitized environment of the morgue, the scent of death wafting off the real Brian Anders was about to knock her over. 

“Here,” Batman said, handing her a small jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub. “Put some under your nose. It’ll help.” 

“How did you know we’d find him here? He’s a John Doe.” she asked, handing the jar back to him. He pulled open another cold locker and Jamie Nguyen slid into sight. The stiff white tag on her toe read; “Jane Doe - 239-2014”.

“I heard about them a few days ago. According to the reports, these two were found on a private beach just north of the city. The cops think they tried to sneak onto the beach after sunset, but due to poor visibility and their blood alcohol levels, they didn’t see the cliff before falling to their deaths.” 

“A poetic way for romantically inclined drunks to die.”

“Too poetic. That’s why I remembered them.” 

“They were murdered,” she said, a note of sadness in her voice. 

He studied the corpses as they stood in the darkened room. 

“Why kill both of them if only Anders’s ID was compromised?”

“She knew too much?” Catwoman ventured, though she didn’t believe it for a second. 

 

@@@@@

 

“How do you know the fake Brian Anders?” he asked as they drove back towards the Batcave, a blindfold tied securely around her eyes. 

“He was the...let’s say boyfriend...one of my Italian business associates. We never spoke.” 

“Yet you remember him?” he asked skeptically. He watched her grin out of the corner of his eye. 

“The few times I saw him he was laying out by the pool wearing nothing but a smile, so, yes, I remember him. Quite well,” she said, her voice nothing but a sultry purr.

“But you never spoke?” he asked, his voice betraying his smile. She smiled back and shifted her body in the bucket seat. 

“My associate goes through boys like most people go through tissues. None of his little boy toys ever stuck around long.” 

“But long enough to make you.” 

Silently, she turned her face toward the window. 

“The involvement of your associate’s former boyfriend is too much of a coincidence to ignore, Selina. Did they know you were going after the ruby?” 

She sighed and he imagined her rolling her emerald eyes under the blindfold.

“The fewer people who know what you’re doing, the less chance you’ll get sold out to the highest bidder. It’s rule number one in the outlaw handbook.” 

“And where does one buy the outlaw handbook?” he quipped, still unable to stop from flirting with her. 

“You’re adorable for thinking its something you buy,” she quipped back. He smiled, but only because she couldn’t see him. 

“Penny-One to Batman.” the speaker crackled to life as Alfred’s accented voice filled the car. 

“Go ahead, Penny-One.” 

“Sir, will you be back soon? There’s something here you may want to see.”

“What is it?” Batman snapped as his foot slammed down on the accelerator. 

“Results are back on the sample of the substance that ate through the wires on the gem case. It’s chemical makeup is unique.” 

“That’s good news,” Catwoman said. 

“Perhaps. However, this particular residue has extremely high traces of...” Alfred trailed off. 

“Spit it out,” Batman growled as the city fell away behind them. 

“...It has extremely high traces of a compound found only in Lazarus pits.”


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

“Let me get this straight - You believe the person who impersonated Brian Anders is a member of the League of Assassins,” she said, leaning against the doorframe to the Cave’s weapons room. He tossed a rope into a canvas bag at his feet, along with several full utility belts. 

“Yes. Nardoc Sera, too.” 

“And Red Claw? She’s a terrorist but she’s not stupid enough to cross the League.”

“Nardoc Sera is Kasnian. Or his identity is.”

“Meaning?” she asked. 

“He’s a double agent - most likely working for Ra’s while spying on Red Claw. But his real purpose was to set up the transfer of the biotoxin to another LoA agent. As bookie Gerry Pavloski, Sera was able to secure the fake gem and locate an identity for his colleague to use.” 

“Effervescent the sculptor and Brian Anders.”

“Both people were deep enough into their addictions to use a bookie but were functional enough to be useful.” 

“So Sera places the gem at the museum while Fake Brian Anders steals the biotoxin,” she said as she started to see the pieces fall into place.

“Then Anders places it in the gem’s compartment while on a cleaning job.”

“Then why wasn’t the biotoxin there when Red Claw arrived?” she asked. 

“You tell me,” he said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. 

“Tell you what?” she said, immediately sensing the change in his demeanor. This wasn’t the man who had been her partner over these last few days - this was the Batman who had no problem hauling her off to Gordon and the GCPD.

“Your associate’s ex-lover just happened to show up in a germ lab the night the burglary was committed using the name of a man who would be found dead several weeks later. And you beat Red Claw to the gem.”

“Why would I ask where the biotoxin was if I took it?” she asked, backing up as he took steps toward her.

“What were you doing there, Selina?” He was so close now her nose almost touched his chin.

“I didn’t even touch the ruby that night, you saw to that!”

“Who were you working with?” 

“I thought I was working with you!” she shot back as she squared her shoulders. 

“Don’t lie to me!” he hissed, spittle catching on his lower lip. She placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back to regain some ground.

“You think if I were working with Ra’s or Red Claw I’d have stuck around here to play Watson to your Sherlock?”

“Then why did you stay?” he demanded. The question hung in the air between them. 

“I don’t work with terrorists or crazy megalomaniacs set on world domination. They’re above my pay grade,” she said, changing the subject. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked into his cowled face, her eyes cold, but open. She was offended by his line of questioning but she was telling him the truth. She wasn’t involved. Or if she was, she didn’t realize it. 

“Your Italian business associate mentioned the exhibit to you, didn’t he?”

“In passing, but he always mentioned Gotham-” she said, breaking off. Eyes wide, her mouth dropped open as it hit her. “I was set up.”

“You didn’t have to tell anyone you were going after the ruby, anyone who has studied you would know you couldn’t stay away from a score like that. Fake Brian Anders was sent to ensure your associate planted the information.” 

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Actually, it does. You were supposed to take the fall for the missing biotoxin, thus diverting Red Claw’s attention from Sera and the cops’ attention from the museum staff.” 

“The silent alarm,” she said, her eyes closing and her head drooping toward the floor. “How could I have been so stupid?” 

“This isn’t your fault, Selina,” he said, stopping himself from placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I believe Red Claw was mislead as well.”

“How do you figure?” she asked. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I believe Ra’s wanted to steal the biotoxin but wanted to make sure it wasn’t immediately obvious that he was behind it. The reason he roped Red Claw and you into this is because he wanted to ensure I wasted time trying to unravel this whole blasted mess. Which is exactly what I did.” 

“This is all about you?” she asked, incredulous.

“I know how it sounds. But I have a...history with Ra’s. And the League. He’d want me to know what he’d done. Which is why he had his associates use a corrosive with a compound only found in Lazarus Pits.” Looking away from her he focused on gathering up the canvas bag. She was silent for several moments.

“I get why he picked Red Claw - she’s a terrorist and would have an interest in biological weapons. But...why’d he pick me....?” she trailed off, her voice quiet. 

That was something he couldn’t answer so he said nothing. He didn’t want to contemplate why Ra’s would drag Selina into this - was it because Ra’s knew how he felt about her? But how? 

“You’re going after him.” It was a statement. She didn’t need to ask because she knew. “I’m going with you.” 

“Selina -” he began. 

“I’m not sitting idly by while you run off and get the answers that I want.” He grabbed her gently by the arms.

“Ra’s is dangerous. If he really did set you up, you should be dead right now. You’re not because something went wrong. He would not hesitate to try and kill you again.” 

It was moments like these that he wished she could see his eyes instead of the lenses in his cowl. She would be able to see just how important it was that she stay behind. He couldn’t be responsible for her death, not now, not ever. Not after everything they’d been through in the last few days, what with their easy camaraderie and enjoyable connection. Working with her felt natural. It felt right. 

She gently grabbed his forearms and looked at him much as she had in the Batplane.

“I can help you.” 

“It’s too risky-”

“Ra’s al Ghul is a dangerous psycho with a God complex. If he really has that biotoxin, he could kill an untold number of people. He needs to be stopped.”

She was so sincere, so open. Despite everything, he believed her. In that moment, he understood her better than he ever had before. As different as they were at times, on a fundamental level, they got each other. They got each other in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else, not even Alfred or Dick. His hand twitched, longing to brush her cheek, to bring her in for a kiss. 

He shook his head and disentangled himself from arms, putting distance between them. 

“I’ll drop you back in Gotham before I leave,” he said before stalking away, his cape bunched in his fists. 

“You’re only one man. The League is an army. You’re good, but even you can’t survive against that many trained goons. You need my help and I need answers.”

“It’s too dangerous!” he said, spinning around to face her. 

“You think I can’t handle myself? Like I need you to protect me?” she snapped. 

“You don’t understand-”

“Explain it to me!” 

He was silent. 

“Oh, I get it. You demand honesty from everyone around you and then freeze up when it’s required of you.”

“Why’d you leave Gotham?” he shot back. She had kissed him to avoid answering that question before. 

“I’m coming with you,” she said, changing the subject. “And don’t tell me I don’t understand. I understand a hell of a lot more than you think...Bruce.”


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“Oracle to Batman, come in.” Oracle’s voice shattered the tension between them. They studied each other, neither moving. Breaking eye contact, he walked purposely to the Batcomputer to answer the call.

“Go ahead, Oracle,” he said, his deep voice steady as a river.

“I’ve found something on Jamie Nguyen. Records show she worked for the agency that provided temporary security guards to the museum.”

“Let me guess - she was working at the Museum the night of the robbery and no one has seen her since,” Batman said, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“You’re good at this game,” Oracle joked. 

“Too bad the real Jamie Nguyen had been dead for nine days the night the burglary took place. You got a picture of the woman who used her identity?” he asked. 

“Working on it.”

“She’s the one who called the police,” Selina said.

“And retrieved the biotoxin from the fake ruby,” he said, punching keys on the computer console. “Any more information about the biotoxin, Oracle?”

“Nope. But I can tell you that the government keeps meticulous records on the types of test tubes it orders.” 

“Keep me posted. Batman out.” 

Uncomfortable silence filled the cave. He leaned against the Batcomputer and studied Selina again, arms still crossed across his chest. 

“I leave in 20 minutes. Be ready or I’m leaving you here.”

 

@@@@

 

“Bludhaven?” she asked as the late model black sedan with illegal blackout tinting entered the city limits. 

“Ra’s will be watching everything out of Gotham, even the private airfields. I don’t want him to know I’m coming. 

“We’re. We’re coming,” she corrected him, looking out the window at the rusty chain link fence surrounding an abandoned airfield. A “No Trespassing” sign lay in the dead weeds lining the road. The cold moon cast long, deep shadows onto the cracked asphalt. 

“This is the last time I let you pick the restaurant,” she said. Reaching a dilapidated airplane hanger, he pressed a button in his computer gauntlet. The hanger swung open like a garage door and the car disappeared from view. 

He threw the car into park, shut off the engine, and jumped out of the driver’s seat. She sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt.

They hadn’t spoken about her revelation in the cave. No denials, no questions. Just moving forward like she hadn’t revealed she knew who he was. She suspected the only reason he relented and brought her along was because it was easier for him to keep an eye on her while he figured out what to do about her newly-revealed knowledge. 

Why had she told him? That was knowledge she could have chosen to use later, maybe to keep herself out of jail the next time he caught her. Except she suspected he’d rather out himself to the world than to be blackmailed, simply because he was stubborn and wouldn’t take to kindly to blackmail. 

Rolling her eyes, she kicked herself for choosing this over going after the real ruby. She should have parted ways with Batman the minute she recovered from the gunshot wound. But she hadn’t. And now she had to know why she had gotten roped in to a long con orchestrated by Ra’s al Ghul. 

When she emerged from the car, she saw they weren’t alone. A tall, dark-haired man with a chin like granite stood staring up at a old cargo plane. 

“You know, usually I agree to help you out with these things because you’ve got neat toys. But this? This barely qualifies as an aircraft.” 

Batman pressed the screen of the computer again and the nose of the cargo plane slid away to reveal a small, sleek jet. 

“New Javelin?” the man asked. 

“Next gen prototype.” 

“I knew you’d come through.” 

“Get in the plane,” Batman growled as he pulled his canvas bag from the trunk of car. The man in the bomber jacket turned, his eyes landing on Catwoman. 

“Well, hello there,” he drawled. His brown leather bomber jacket creaked as he extended his hand. “Hal Jordan, United States Air Force.” 

“A military man. Color me impressed,” she said, flashing a sexy smile as they shook hands. 

“Look at that smile,” he said, flashing her a grin of his own. 

“Knock it off. Jordan, in the plane. Catwoman, get onboard or I’m leaving you here,” Batman barked. 

“Cranky,” Hal said, winking at Catwoman. 

 

@@@@

 

Hal taxied the Javelin prototype onto the old airstrip. Batman sat in the co-pilot’s chair. 

“When you called and said you were bringing a colleague, I didn’t think you’d be bringing along the notorious Catwoman. Though, I can’t blame you. She’s scorching hot,” Hal said. 

“Shut up.” 

“Touchy.”

“When we’re airborne, hit this button. It’ll cloak us from radar. Once we arrive in Georgian airspace, keep us below the flight ceiling. And Jordan - she doesn’t know about your other job. Don’t blow your cover by pulling out your ring. Or anything else,” Batman said, his nose in the air. 

“Roger that,” Hal said, a knowing smirk on his face.

 

@@@@@@@@

 

His cape swirled behind him like a thick fog as he strode to the back of the plane. Catwoman was strapped into one of the seats, her legs crossed, her goggles pushed onto her head. 

“I didn’t know you had friends. Handsome, uniform-wearing friends. Should’ve introduced me sooner.” Playful sparks flashed in in her eyes as she gazed at him through thick, dark lashes. He was familiar with this game - women pretending to have an interest in another man just to give him a hard time, to make him jealous. He’d seen it all before. But this time, it worked. 

“Jordan hasn’t been in the Air Force in years,” he said, throwing himself into the seat across the aisle from her. 

“As long as he still has the uniform I’m interested,” she drawled. “Are you going to tell me where we’re headed?” 

“I’m resting,” he grumbled.

“I suppose I can try to get it out of your handsome friend up there,” She playfully pulled her zipper down a few teeth, her actions a perfect mimicry of their ill-fated encounter on the roof.

“Georgia.”

“The state?”

“The country. I have it on good authority that Ra’s is in the Caucasus mountains. You don’t mind snow, I trust.”

“As long as there’s no repeat of that river incident, you’ll get no complaints from me,” she said with laughter in her voice. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a grin.

“Get some rest. We’ll need it.”


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

Twenty minutes before reaching their destination, Bruce opened his eyes. 

Selina was curled up in the seat across from him, dozing lightly. She knew. She knew who he was. 

“ _Bruce._ ”

The way she’d said his name had sent cold waves of electricity through his body, a mix of excitement and terror. How? How did she figure it out? Like all things Selina, he was certain he couldn’t begin to guess. 

It was dangerous for an adversary to know his secret identity. She could expose him to rouges far more deadly than she - and once it was known that Bruce Wayne was Batman, it wouldn’t take much to connect Dick, Tim, and even Barbara to their various alter egos. 

Foolish as it was, he didn’t believe she’d give up his identity. How reckless to believe she was trustworthy with no evidence. He couldn’t believe she’d ever sell him out. He didn’t want to believe. 

His name on her lips had rubbed him raw and left him as sensitive as an exposed nerve. It also excited him, left his body prone and ready like before a battle or sex. He liked her. A lot. He liked her cunning mind and her willingness to do what it took to get the job done. He liked her humor, her intelligence, and the saucy sexuality that she wore with no shame or self-consciousness. Yes, she was beautiful and he wanted to take her to bed - but along with all of that he actually liked her. Selina hit every one of his buttons and made his heart pound. Now that she knew who he was, maybe...

He was being foolish. There was nothing else outside of Justice. He wasn’t allowed to hope for more. 

“Selina,” he said, more gruffly than he’d intended, his hand lightly shaking her shoulder. “It’s time.” 

 

@@@@@

 

Mount Kazbek, the third highest mountain in the Caucasus mountains, loomed above the dark countryside. 

“On three!” Batman cried above the roar of wind whipping through the rapidly-moving aircraft. “One, two-” 

Catwoman grinned and leapt from the plane.

“Three,” he mumbled, jumping into the cold night air. 

Once they were clear, Jordan accelerated and flew the Javelin out of sight in mere seconds. They fell through the silent night, nothing but stars and the moon lighting the mountains. 

Cold wind poured past her face as she closed her eyes, allowing whatever she was feeling rush through her, accelerate through her body, and leave her breathless. Over the last few days, she found herself liking Batman. Or Bruce. Whatever. She liked him. Wanting him was one thing, that could be chalked up to lust. But liking him? Liking the way he smirked instead of smiled, liking the gentle tone in his voice when he teased her, liking his wit, his intelligence? That was more than lust, more than sex, more than desire. It was dangerous. It scared her. And Selina Kyle didn’t scare easily. 

Was there something more for them than the easy partnership they’d developed over the past few days? Could there be more? 

She opened her eyes. There couldn’t be more for them. Eventually this mission would be over and she’d have to move on to the next score, the next shiny item in need of a new home. He would continue in his self-imposed solitary quest for justice. They’d never be on that rooftop again, panting in the rain, half-crazed with desire and need. Their moment had passed. It was for the best. It meant she was right to leave Gotham. And when all this was over, it would make it that much easier for her to steal the real ruby like she’d originally planned. 

He gave her the thumbs up and they pulled their rip cords in tandem, their parachutes blending in to the night sky as they drifted. Landing in a small clearing, they gathered their chutes and ran for cover. The rocky ground hadn’t been covered in snow yet, they wouldn’t have to worry about their footprints until they got higher up the mountain.

“You ok?” he asked quietly when they were safely under the trees. 

“Better than last time,” she quipped, flashing a million dollar smile his way. She’d deal with her feelings later, she’d berate herself for feeling anything in the first place. She’d do it somewhere far away from him. Right now they had a job to do. 

“Five hours until dawn. Let’s move.” They shouldered their packs and began the long climb up the mountain. 

 

@@@@@@@@@

 

They walked in silence for hours, the natural sounds of the mountain their soundtrack. There was no stopping for rest, no talking, just a single-minded plod forward. They communicated through hand signals and slight turns of the head. They hadn’t discussed this system before jumping from the plane, they just did it. It came naturally. They were on the same page without even trying. Once again the ease with which they worked fascinated him. 

The night sky was taking on the telltale purplish tint of dawn as they reached the lip of a large gorge. Standing on that gorge as dawn began painting the sky was like standing on the edge of the world. 

According to his gauntlet computer, they were 750 feet above their target - the legendary Betlemi Cave. Legend said the cave was home to everything from ancient gods to biblical relics. Some even said the cave housed a spring that gave any who bathed in its waters eternal life. If his hunch was correct, Ra’s would be in or near the cave. Hopefully so would the biotoxin.

The plan was to come at the cave from the top, giving them ground advantage and a place to survey the scene. Dropping to their bellies, they crawled like soldiers toward the edge of the cliff. Once there, she pointed across the gorge. 

The facade of a massive castle had been engraved into the rock face, complete with walkways, columns and window-like openings. The grand carving showcased ancient Western techniques with traditional Eastern aesthetics, a true monument to the ancient trade route that wound through these mountains. A dozen men clad in black keikogis and matching face masks patrolled the rocks and guarded the main entrance, assault weapons in their hands. This was going to be harder than he thought. 

“We need to find somewhere to set up surveillance,” he whispered in her ear. She tensed, almost as if she suppressed a shiver. He looked around on their side of the gorge. The cliff face was peppered with caves and indents. He saw one that was half hidden behind a straggly tree stubbornly growing out of the sheer rock. Dawn was quickly approaching. They’d have to get into the smaller cave before the sun came up or they’d be spotted. He gestured toward the cave with his chin and she nodded, dropping her pack to the ground to search for the rope. 

They tied themselves together at the waist, allowing for plenty of room between them for movement. Concerned that the sound of his grapple would alert Ra’s men to their presence, he swung a clawed climbing anchor in several tight circles before letting it fly. It latched securely into the rock face. He gave it a few tugs before pulling himself toward the cave. Pebbles clattered down the side of the mountain as he dislodged them with his boots. He glanced at Catwoman - she was braced and gripping the rope in case he slipped. After pulling himself into the cave, she followed; more agile and quicker in her climb than he could ever hope to be. 

The cave was wider at the bottom than the top, much like a beaker. The wider bottom allowed room to sit and lie relatively comfortably. Lying on their bellies, their shoulders gently touching, they watched the castle. 

“We’ll move at dusk. Until then, surveillance. You should get some rest.” 

“What about you?” she asked, speaking for the first time since they started their climb. 

“I’m fine.” He was lying. 

“We’ll do shifts. You take the first watch, I’ll take the second,” she said, stifling a yawn. She positioned her pack under her head. “Wake me if anything happens.” 

He didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep so quickly until she curled against him, shivering slightly even through the thick parka Alfred had thoughtfully provided before they left Gotham. Also clad in a parka, he’d kept his cape in his pack. He pulled it out and spread it over her slumbering form. He brushed her cheek lightly with his index finger before turning back to the castle, his eyes pressed against his binoculars.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 

 

Masked men with AR-15s slung loosely over their shoulders paced the terraces built into the cliff face. Ra’s respected and preferred the old ways, but even he wouldn’t take a chance with a Lazarus pit. 

Bruce sucked his teeth as the sun slowly plodded across the sky. He quietly repositioned himself as best he could - Selina was curled against his side and he didn’t want to wake her but his leg was still sore from taking Red Claw’s bullet. It felt nice to have her beside him, even if his body would be stiff as hell when he went to stand. 

She stirred and groggily opened her eyes. 

“Your turn?” she muttered sleepily, pulling the cape tight. 

“It’s only been two hours,” he said lowly, his eyes never leaving the men across the gorge. 

“I don’t need a lot of sleep,” she said, stretching. “Thanks for the blanket.” 

He didn’t say anything. She hid her smile as she dug through her pack. 

“Gorp?” she asked, offering him a baggie of trail mix with a high protein content. Alfred. He really did think of everything. Usually he’d refuse, but he knew he’d need energy for the evening and accepted some of the mixture. 

“How did you know Ra’s would come here?” she asked as she munched on a cashews. 

“I make it my business to know,” he said around a mouthful of almonds and raisins. 

“You know, you could just answer the question without any superior snide bullshit,” she said, passing him the bag and pulling out her own set of binoculars. He smirked.

“I have good sources.”

“You trust them?”

“I pay too well for them to lie to me.” 

“Ah, money. Is there anything it can’t do?” she joked, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her hand. 

“This place has the requisite geological conditions for a Lazarus pit,” he said, changing the subject.

“Oh?”

“Mount Kazbek is a dormant stratovolcano, formed from lava and volcanic ash, and it resides in a geographic area high in tectonic plate activity; all of which are typical features of the pits I’ve seen in the past. Add the legend about a spring deep within the cave that grants those that bathe in its waters eternal life, and you’ve got a perfect place for Ra’s Al Ghul.”

A detective, a geologist, and a mythologist. I’m impressed, handsome. Is there anything you don’t know?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. 

“How you figured it out.” It. His identity. They hadn’t spoken of it since the Bat Cave.The words hung between them. Chewing thoughtfully on an almond, she studied his cowled face, stubble breaking across his chin.

“You mean besides the HGTV-quality bathroom inside a cave, the expensive gadgets, or the butler?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “Your teeth.” 

“My teeth?” he asked, not understanding. Smiling, she began working her right glove off her slender fingers.

“You’ve played poker, I assume? We all have a tell, something that tips our hand, and lets the other players know what we’re holding. When I saw movie star teeth on Bruce Wayne I didn’t think much of it,” she said, moving close to him, pulling his lower lip down with the pad of her thumb. “But on Batman they’re out of place. Why would a man who spends his nights dealing with the very real possibility of getting punched in the face spend so much money on red carpet teeth unless it was expected of him in his daily life?”

“What will you do with this information, Selina?” he asked, his voice quiet. She released his lower lip, her thumb sliding down to rest on his strong chin. Her eyes traced the lines of his mouth, her face was so close to his he could feel her breath on his skin. Remaining perfectly still, he waited and watched. 

“When I work, I’m on contract or looking for a payday,” she said, her voice dreamlike as she gazed at his mouth. “But sometimes I come across something so unique or rare that I can’t bear to part with it. Those are the things I keep for myself. The really special things.” Longing echoed in her eyes - she wanted to kiss him. He wanted her to kiss him. 

Suddenly, she smiled self-consciously and dropped her hand from his face. Rolling away from him, the distance seemed wider than the gorge they were watching. She pulled her glove back on.

“I wouldn’t worry about anyone else figuring it out. I’m going to guess your other adversaries aren’t quite as acquainted with your mouth as I am,” she joked, popping some more trail mix into her mouth. Whatever moment that had just passed between them was over, but that moment had left him with indisputable proof that she wouldn’t tell anyone who he was. He believed her. He believed her in the same way he believed in the righteousness of his cause. 

Why don’t you get some rest?” she asked.

“I need to focus on how we’re going to get into that cave.” She rolled onto her belly and looked through her binoculars.

“Why don’t you let me think about that?” 

“No.”

“It’s not even noon yet. We’ve got a long night ahead of us and I need you well-rested. As well-rested as you can be sleeping on this damn rock, anyway.” 

His back was cramped, he was exhausted from the climb up the mountain, and he hadn’t really slept in the past 96 hours. She was right. He rolled onto his side, alleviating some of the pressure on his body and tucked his pack under his head. 

“Wake me in two hours.” He was asleep before his head hit the backpack. 

“You got it, handsome,” she whispered, draping his cape over him. 

@@@@@@@

 

The men continued their patrol as she watched through her binoculars. She counted 7 - three by the entrance to the cave, one on the east walkway, one on the west walkway, and one in each of the towers. Given the shift change at dawn, they’d either change again at noon or wait until sundown. If they chose noon, it would indicate a higher number of hired hands than a sundown shift change. 

There were several “windows” in the castle-like facade, gaping black openings leading to who-knows-what. Daunting as it was, they’d have the best chance going in through the window at the end of the west walkway as it was closest to their current position. They’d be going in blind. Would the cover of night be enough? There weren’t any lights that she could see, but that didn’t mean the men in the towers didn’t have night vision goggles or infrared sensors. 

She sucked on a chocolate nib from the trail mix - the chocolate was dark, rich. This was top shelf foreign chocolate she wouldn’t have dreamed of back when she was shoplifting from bodegas to survive. She was probably 16 before she discovered there were other kinds of chocolate besides Hershey’s or, if you were really fancy, Dove.

He shifted in his sleep, unconsciously rolling closer to her. She glanced at him, his mouth slack, lips as full and lush as she remembered. If only she’d kissed him. Kissed that perfectly plump lower lip, wrapped her arms around his broad form and buried her face in his corded neck. It hadn’t been right. Not here in this cave with death patrolling the terraces of a madman’s hideout. Of course, after tonight, she may never have the chance to hold him again. She sighed and turned her eyes back to Ra’s men.

 

@@@@@@@

 

One hour and fifty nine minutes after he fell asleep, he sat straight up. 

“Woah,” Selina gasped, shocked. Adrenaline sent her heart into her ribs at 100 miles an hour. He rolled onto his belly and picked up his binoculars.

“That’s it,” he whispered. 

“What?” 

“That boulder at the top of the gorge. If we blow it, we’ll create enough of a distraction to make our move.”

“...I thought you were asleep.” 

“I was.” 

“You figured that out in your sleep?” she asked, incredulous. A slight twist of his head told her everything she wanted to know. “Efficient.” 

“Did I miss anything?” he asked as he watched the guards. 

“Nope. I was able to download about half of the information Oracle sent us about the biotoxin,” she said, gesturing to the satellite modem. “Remember dialup? This is slower.” 

“What did she say?” 

“Nothing good. From what I can gather, it’s as contagious as measles and as deadly as Ebola.”

Suddenly, the sound of a gong echoed through the gorge. Selina glanced at the computer in his gauntlet - it was noon. The morning guards were being replaced by fresh guards. 

“Fantastic,” he grumbled. This mission was becoming more difficult by the minute. 

 

@@@@@@@

 

They moved at nightfall. 

Selina peeled off the parka and took her position. Bruce discarded his parka and moved to fasten his cape. It was strange to see him without the cape. It was also awe-inspiring. He’d made his body into a weapon through nothing but determination and will. And he’d done it all to help a city on the brink of disaster. Though their original goals couldn’t be more opposed, she understood what it was to take matters into your own hands and to become more than just a person. 

Without thinking, she took the small step across the narrow cave, placed her hands on the sides of his face, and kissed him, quick and light. 

“For luck,” she said, stepping back. He licked his lips slowly, the lenses in his cowl hiding any clues to what he was thinking. 

“I don’t believe in luck,” he said. Closing the distance between them he placed a hand on the back of her head and pulled her in for a deep kiss. 

There was longing in that kiss; longing and sadness and desire and hope. It held everything she’d felt for him when she ran from Gotham more than a year ago. In his arms, his lips pressed to hers, she was amazed she ever left in the first place.

Soon, too soon, it was over. 

Stepping back, he was all business again. Silently, they watched the digital timer on Bruce’s gauntlet computer count down. When it reached zero, he threw the remote controlled explosive Batarang out the cave entrance. 

He navigated it carefully, the infrared targeting dot guiding him. The air was still and the Batarang hit its intended target without issue. Five seconds later, the plastique exploded, sending a large bolder tumbling down close to the east side of the castle. As expected, all the guards abandoned their posts and headed towards the sound of the explosion. 

On cue, she fired the zip line into the rock next to their intended entrance point. After checking to see if it was secure, they grabbed the handguards and soundlessly zipped across the gorge.

Once they landed, Batman cut the zip line and they slid into the window-like hole carved directly into the cliff face. He checked the timer - They’d completed the entry in 32 seconds. 

Phase one was complete. Now came the hard part - finding Ra’s.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 

A computerized map of the world illuminated the wall of the large antechamber. News reports from around the globe played in tandem, human tragedy and terror on display 24 hours a day. Violent footage of wars and riots flashed across the screens and reflected in the ancient eyes of Ra’s Al Ghul. 

Drink in hand he sat watching humanity tear itself apart in every corner of the world. It was truly glorious. Beside him on an onyx end table the biotoxin was displayed in a place of honor. It would the tool of his greatest triumph. 

“Master, forgive our intrusion,” said a League footman as he bowed low. Ra’s swiveled his chair. “We caught an intruder.” 

The Batman was pulled forward from the group of masked men and forced to his knees. Ra’s lips curled into a sinister grin. 

“Detective,” Ra’s said, rising. 

“Never pinned you for a fan of cable news,” Batman said. He addressed Ra’s as if he were the only man in the room. 

“Is there any better evidence that humanity is a cancer that must be destroyed than the 24-hour news cycle? Dismissed,” Ra’s said, waving his hand at the masked figures surrounding Batman. Instantly, the masked men disappeared. Batman attempted to get to his feet but Ubu, Ra’s most loyal protector and the most dangerous man in his guard, kept him on his knees. Ra’s stepped toward him, the effects of prolonged use of the Lazarus pits echoing through his steps - he couldn’t stand as tall as he used to, his shoulders were more rounded and caving in on themselves. There was more white in his hair, more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Batman swallowed slowly. Though he had always disagreed with Ra’s methods and many of his ideals, it still hurt to see him like this.

“Whatever you’re planning, you don’t have to do it,” Batman said. Ubu booted him in the ribs.

“Oh, Detective,” Ra’s scoffed, shaking his head. “Did you assume you could simply come into my home and ask me to reverse my plans? You are smarter than that.” 

Apparently not, he thought as Ubu kicked him again.

“It is most unfortunate that you have chosen a less righteous path than the one I offered to you as my second in command and heir. I had hoped you had reconsidered. No matter. Take him to the dungeon. I want to make certain he is given a front row seat to witness the birth of the new era.” 

Ubu kicked him again before carrying him out of the antechamber.

 

@@@@@@@

 

He kneeled in the dank cell on a bed of straw. Torches lined the hallway outside his cell, providing poor lighting and hissing periodically when moisture seeped from the rock and dripped onto the flames. The far away sound of a rapidly moving river echoed through the hallways and chambers. Whether it was a river of water or of Lazarus liquids was impossible to tell. 

A guard appeared before his door holding a tin plate of food. The guard bent to slide the food under the door, grunted once and fell face first into the food, completely unconscious. A masked League of Assassins member stood behind him, an extinguished torch in his hand. With a free hand the League member pulled the mask away from his face, revealing that he was actually a she. Catwoman. 

_Four Hours Earlier_

Visually sweeping the room, she verified it was clear before they entered the stronghold. The room was empty save a stone table and four low stools. As planned, Batman remained in the room while she ventured out into the hallway, her back against the smooth stone wall. Torches emitted a low, eerie glow along the narrow passageway. Spotting a guard armed only with a sword, she threw a small pebble toward his feet. It clattered against the well-worn floor and skittered to a stop near the toe of his boot. She vanished back into the room with the small table.The guard’s head snapped toward the origin point of the noise. 

The guard slinked slowly down the hallway, his steps slow and unsure. Once he passed the room where they were hiding, Batman hit him in the neck with a dart full of anesthetic. He collapsed instantly, unconscious. Catching him before he could hit the ground, Batman dragged him soundlessly into the room. They stripped the guard, bound him, and taped his mouth shut. Catwoman donned his keioghi and face mask over her costume.

“Ready?” she whispered she peaked through the crack in the doorway. 

“Hang back and don’t blow your cover,” he said, opening the door wide. Purposefully, he strode along the hallway, his movements causing the torches to flicker and dim as he passed, almost as if they were paying homage to his intimidating presence. 

Spying a patrol of five guards, he stopped. They all saw him at the same time. 

“Gentlemen,” he said, his hands balling to fists at his sides. The guards exchanged looks and charged. 

Batman barely fought, only throwing a few half-hearted punches and kicks to keep up appearances. They took him down easily and bound his hands behind him. Once the fight was over, Catwoman, clad in the guard’s uniform, fell into step behind the League members. True to form, the men took Batman right to Ra’s al Ghul. 

 

_Present Day_

“Hope you weren’t hungry,” she said quietly as she rolled the guard onto his back with the toe of her boot. 

“Took you long enough,” he mumbled as he freed himself from the twine bonds around his wrists.

“This place is bigger than it looks.” She crouched in front of the door and slid a lock picking tool from her glove. His door clicked open in a matter of seconds.

The plan had worked exactly as discussed in the cave - they were at a disadvantage in the massive stronghold as they were unfamiliar with the layout and had no idea of where Ra’s might be. It was easier to escape a staged capture than to get out of a real one.

“Did you get it?” he asked, referring to the biotoxin. The door swung open and he joined her in the hallway.

“Yeah. And I got this, too,” she said, pulling his utility belt from her sleeve. They were good together, he couldn’t deny that or ignore it. They were a team, and a damn good one at that. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that triumphant grin right of her beautiful face. Instead, he calmly fastened his belt around his waist, being careful not to accidentally brush against her. 

“This way,” he said. They headed down the hallway toward what he thought was a larger artery. As soon as they turned the corner, he realized his mistake. 

Ubu stood in the hallway talking to none other than Talia al Ghul. 

“Beloved?” she asked, surprised.

“Get them!” Ubu cried. Assassins appeared out of nowhere. They seemed to melt out of the walls and construct themselves from thin air. How many men appeared was unknown. He knew it was too many for them to handle, not in a cramped space like this. They were overwhelmed. Catwoman went down and he followed as something hard hit him in the back of the head. Laying on his back, the last thing he saw were the cold, distant eyes of Talia al Ghul.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

 

Asphalt and sulfur tinged with methane assaulted his nose, causing him to retch and almost lose what was left of the trail mix from earlier. The pounding of his head and the pain radiating from the back of his skull pulsated in time with his heartbeat. Even with the protective lining in his cowl, that blow was intense. Hopefully it hadn’t cracked his skull. He quietly assessed the rest of his body as he came to, being as still as possible as not to draw his captors’ attention. His toes and fingers wiggled on command; his limbs worked and didn’t appear to be broken. Though he was bruised and disoriented, he was still functioning. Once he was assured he was ok, he focused on the tightness around his arms and chest. A thick, heavy rope was coiled around him several times, keeping his arms immobile. Catwoman’s back was pressed against his, the rope looping around both of them and ascending toward the ceiling. 

He slowly opened his eyes. They were dangling a good 50 feet above the glowing green sludge of the Lazarus pit. That explained the smell. 

Catwoman groaned softly as she regained consciousness. 

“Selina,” he whispered. She groaned again. “Are you ok?” She was silent for a few moments, no doubt doing the same assessment he’d just done.

“Define ‘ok’,” she said. “Nothing is broken, if that’s what you mean.” 

“Can you reach my left glove?” 

“This is a bad time to hold hands,” she said, her voice tinged with pain. 

“There’s a blade in there,” he said, struggling to get a little slack. She worked her fingers to the inside of his glove.

“Gone.” 

“Damn it,” he swore. They must have searched him before hanging them above the pond of otherworldly sludge. 

“I still have a trick or two up my sleeve,” she said, her claws working their way out of her gloves. 

“How long is that going to take?” he asked as she started on the ropes. 

“Let me worry about that. You worry about getting us out of here.”

Suddenly, several masked League members entered the room holding torches. Ra’s and Talia entered after them, a twisted version of royalty. Ra’s walked to the edge of the cliff that extended over the pit and planted his hands on his hips.

“You have a knack for being unpredictable, Detective,” he said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “I predicted that you would eventually deduce that I was responsible for the theft in Gotham. I predicted that you would come to confront me. But I never expected you would bring the thief with you. I certainly never expected she would steal the biotoxin while I had you held in the dungeon. Well played, Detective. Well played indeed.” 

“Unfortunately, it is all for naught. When we searched the cat we reclaimed the biotoxin.” He gestured to the vial sitting atop a large control panel lining the rock wall. “I was going to keep you alive long enough to watch the beautiful havoc it will cause, but for obvious reasons I cannot allow you to live.” 

“What havoc?” Batman asked, stalling. Catwoman needed all the time he could buy them. 

“Is it not yet obvious? Unleashing a biotoxin of this nature on the unsuspecting public at a well-televised event, such as the upcoming New Year’s Eve celebrations would not only kill thousands, it would be the catalyst for additional global instability and international finger pointing. All I have to do is sit back and watch as all the nations of the world attack each other in the name of revenge.” Ra’s walked toward the control console as he spoke, the steady march of time evident in his labored steps.

“My God,” Batman said, the pieces finally falling into place. “You want to start a world war.” 

“Millions of innocent people will die!” Catwoman said. 

“No one in this world is innocent. Each person demands precious resources from our planet, which in turn fuels the destruction of our natural environment and pushes our population to unsustainable levels. Without diseases or war, humanity is like an unchecked swarm of locusts that consumes and destroys all in its path. Much like a forest after a prolonged drought, a cleansing fire is needed to restore the delicate balance of the ecosystem. This biotoxin is the match.” His hand hovered over the switch that would send them into the pit. The “waters” of the Lazarus pit may restore diseased and dying flesh, but it has the exact opposite effect on healthy bodies. They’d be dead in minutes. 

“You set up Catwoman and Red Claw. Why?” 

“I targeted Red Claw because I believe her organization to be on the verge of greatness. However, her ideals are misplaced and what she fights for is oversimplified jingoism that has no place in my coming utopia. She and her organization must be eliminated.”

“She didn’t have to come to Gotham for that.” 

Ra’s smiled a tight-lipped smile and shook his head. 

“The Gotham Police were to kill Red Claw. Then it would only be a matter of time before the rest of her organization descended on your city to rend it asunder. It would have kept you too busy to stop me from unleashing the biotoxin. Unfortunately, the operative assigned to museum that night did not call the police quickly enough after retrieving the biotoxin. Her failure has been dealt with.”

“What about me?” Catwoman asked, her voice loud to cover the sound of threads of rope snapping. 

“Red Claw was supposed to kill you.”

“Why?” Batman hissed. She’d gotten them enough slack in the ropes that his hands tingled as blood rushed back into his fingers. 

“An additional layer of confusion. Plus - It would only give the Detective more of a reason to spend time taking down the rest of Red Claw’s organization.”

“My death was your insurance policy?” Catwoman asked, incredulous. 

“I considered it a boon that the only thief good enough to get into the museum that night is also the only member of the Detective’s so-called rogue’s gallery that he has never imprisoned in Arkham Asylum. It is curious, is it not? Perhaps it is because your crimes do not warrant such a punishment? Or, perhaps, it is because he cannot stand the idea of a woman as beautiful as you stuck in that hellhole mascareding as a prison?” 

Ra’s hand hovered over the button. 

“You don’t have to do this, Ra’s,” Batman said, again trying to appeal to the man’s better nature. A nature he wasn’t sure existed. 

Ra’s looked to Talia, who had been standing at the edge of the cliff, her gaze fastened on Batman’s cowled face the entire time her father spoke. She took her cue.

“You could join us, Beloved. Once the world has been cleansed, you could shape the coming Utopia into the society of your dreams. You could be its king. And I would be at your side as your loving and dutiful queen. We could rule this world together!” 

“The society of my dreams doesn’t involve the death of countless innocent people,” Batman growled. Catwoman was close to breaking the ropes. Subtlety, he shifted his body weight so they began to sway. 

Talia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Do you not love me?” she asked, her voice soft, yet mechanical. As if she was saying anything to bring him onto their side. As if she was saying what she thought he wanted to hear. 

“I could never live in the future you envision, Talia.” Talia looked to her father. He nodded once. 

“Goodbye, Beloved.” 

“Running out of time!” Batman hissed to Catwoman as he watched Ra’s hand raise above the button.

“Two seconds!” she hissed back, struggling to get slack and not give away her activities. 

“Don’t have them!” he said, moving his legs so they swung in wide arcs over the pit. 

“Almost-!” she said as Ra’s hand came down on the button. The claw above them opened and they dropped towards the poisonous liquid below.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 

Gravity grabbed them. When they moved, it felt like they were moving underwater, every movement taking a lifetime. A lifetime they didn’t have. 

As the hook released, Catwoman snapped the last of the rope binding them together. Batman grabbed her, the momentum from his earlier movements carrying them towards the cliff face. Catwoman pulled her whip from her sleeve, unfurling it with a snap. She swung hard and wrapped it around a small rock outcropping below the cliff’s edge. Batman took the impact with his shoulder as they flew into the cliff, their legs only 10 feet above the green liquids of the pit. 

They froze, both knowing not to speak or move. Their position blocked them from view. Catwoman’s arm shook with the effort of holding both of them, the rock cracking under their combined weight. 

Batman moved carefully, pulling a spare grapple from a hidden compartment in his suit. He gestured to a rock shelf across the pit, positioned higher than Ra’s computer console. She nodded. He fired as the rock they hung from gave way. He pulled her closer as they ascended to the shelf. Once they had their footing, he spoke one word: 

“Move.” 

They attacked. 

Batman hit Ra’s square in the chest with a glide kick, knocking him into Ubu and sending them both backwards. 

“Father!” Talia cried as she ran for him. Catwoman stopped her cold with a flying kick to her chest. 

Batman grabbed his utility belt and pulled out two exploding grenade pellets. He hit the door to the chamber, causing it to crumble and block reinforcements from entering. The explosion caused the chamber walls to crack and pieces of stone fell from the ceiling, some splashing loudly into the Lazarus pit below. 

“Master?” Ubu asked, shaking Ra’s shoulders. 

“Get him!” Ra’s gasped. Ubu jumped to his feet. Screaming, he ran straight for Batman. Batman was ready for him. They battled, punches and kicks landing on both sides. 

Talia was back on her feet. She and Catwoman studied each other as they circled the other, both ready to pounce.

“You will pay for your insolence,” Talia said. Catwoman rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Catwoman said. Talia lunged at her. She sidestepped the attack and landed an elbow between her shoulder blades as more debris fell from the ceiling.

Ubu backhanded Batman, sending him into the computer console. He repurposed the momentum and did a handspring off it, his boot connecting with Ubu’s chin. Without missing beat, he punched downward, catching Ubu’s nose and sending him staggering backwards. Rocks fell between them. The cliff beneath their feet shuddered. 

“We can’t stay here!” Batman said, trying to make him see reason.

“I always wondered what the master saw in you. You are too afraid to face me man to man,” Ubu said, kicking high. Batman blocked it and jumped out of range.

“Listen to me! The roof is caving in!” 

“You should listen to him,” Catwoman yelled as Talia swept her feet out from under her. She utilized her gymnastics training and bounced back to her feet, blocking the kick headed at her left knee. 

The cliff shuddered again, almost knocking all of them to the ground. Rocks fell, partially burying Ra’s. 

“Father!” Talia cried as Ubu cried “Master!” They ran towards Ra’s as the cliff cracked. 

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Catwoman cried as she ran towards Batman. He nodded before grabbing the biotoxin from where it was lodged in the computer console. He tucked it into his belt. 

Ubu had pulled Ra’s from the rocks. He was barely alive. 

“Get him in the pit!” Talia said. 

“There’s no time!” Batman said. Talia ignored him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and made her look at him. “Talia. There’s no time. Save yourself.” 

Her face was frozen, cold. He searched her eyes and found she had reached the same conclusion he’d reached the moment he’d seen her in the hallway: It was over between them. It had been over for a long, long time. 

“I have made my choice.” She disengaged from him and went to help Ubu. He took one deep, measured breath and turned to Catwoman, who was trying to look as nonchalant as one could while both watching his personal drama unfold and avoid being smashed by large rocks. 

“You ok?” she asked. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled his grapple from his belt. 

“Never better,” he grumbled. As they ascended towards the opening at the top of the volcanic chamber, he realized he meant it. 

 

@@@@@@

 

Selina was seated at the bar area of a restaurant in the Vladikavkaz International Airport. She sipped dark, bitter coffee and watched the activity of the security area through a mirror mounted behind the bottles of alcohol lining the wall. 

After escaping the crumbling volcanic chamber, they practically sprinted to the nearest village, where Selina bought them some clothing with the local currency he had tucked away in his belt. He really was prepared for almost everything. 

Dressed as normal tourists, she stole them a car and they drove the roughly 30 miles to the Russian city of Vladikavkaz. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she’d asked as she stared out the window at the heavily forested landscape. 

“No,” he said. That’s all he’d said the entire ride. 

Once they arrived at the airport, she’d gone through security first using one of the fake passports she always kept hidden in an interior pocket of her suit. Batman wasn’t the only one who prepared. 

Seventeen minutes after she cleared security, a tall man wearing dark wash jeans, a baseball cap, and a nondescript leather jacket entered the security line pulling a single piece of carry on luggage. As he was setting the bag on the x-ray machine’s conveyor belt, Selina pressed the screen of the smartphone sitting in front of her. Dark smoke started to billow from an unmanned x-ray machine. Selina sipped her coffee, barely turning her head as everyone else in the airport was flung into a brief tizzy. 

When the smoke cleared, no one noticed that the man in the baseball cap was standing on the other side of the metal detector, his bag on the other side of the machine, though it had never passed through. As the employees tried to discover what had caused the problem with the machine, he simply picked up his bag and walked into the bar. 

“Excuse me, miss - is this seat taken?” the tall man asked in accented Russian, indicating the seat next to her at the counter. 

“No, go right ahead,” she answered. 

“Perfect timing,” he muttered quietly in English after he had been served a cup of coffee. 

“I suppose that means thank you,” she said just as quietly, her coffee cup millimeters from her lips. Bruce took a deep swallow of his coffee before looking into the mirror, locking his ice blue eyes with her emerald ones. 

“It does.” Time slowed as they stared at each other in the mirror, their gazes dancing. They’d been through so much together in the last few days. The partnership they’d forged was fragile but thriving. Bruce looked away first and took a sip of his coffee. 

“About Talia-” he said, looking down into his cup. It was important that she knew. She placed her hand on top of his. Her skin was soft, warm. Just like he remembered her to be. He met her eyes in the mirror once more. 

She’d seen their exchange on the cliff. She knew. And she understood. She squeezed his hand lightly, drained the rest of her coffee, left a few crumpled rubles on the counter, and headed to her boarding area.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Well, here it is - the last two chapters! I just wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to follow the story or leave kudos. And a special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. I cannot tell you how great it has been to hear from all of you. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Chapter 23

_Six Weeks Later_

Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, his left hand propping up his head as he absentmindedly doodled on a legal pad with his right. Once a month he sat through an hour-long conference call regarding the Wayne Enterprises budget. It was all for show. He monitored the budget closely and was fully aware of any anomalies or shortfalls, usually before the accountants noticed. But Bruce Wayne wasn’t expected to care about or even understand the company’s finances. Sometimes he wondered if he’d done himself a disservice by creating an identity that most believed was about as smart as a bag of hammers.

Something small in the proposed budget had become a sticking point for one of the VPs in Metropolis - office supplies, he thought? - and all the VPs on the call had been arguing about it in that stifled business way of arguing for a good 35 minutes. Bruce hadn’t said a word.

Tuning out the voices coming from his phone’s speaker, he ran through his mental to-do list for the evening: 

Cross-check the records from GCPD regarding the rash of warehouse burglaries on the Westside, 

Keep an eye out for muggers near busy shopping areas (always more this time of year), and 

general patrol. 

A surprisingly light schedule for a Friday in December. 

Glancing down at his doodles, he discovered he’d done it again. He’d filled the margins of his legal pad with tiny little cats.

He hadn’t seen Selina since their exchange in the Vladikavkaz airport. After their quick conversation in the bar, she boarded a plane bound for Paris and he took a flight to Athens. He felt the residual warmth of her hand on his for most of his flight.   
Once he landed, he slipped out a side exit and hopped a private jet belonging to a Wayne Enterprises shell corporation back to Gotham. Where she had gone after arriving in Paris he couldn’t say. If she was in Gotham, she’d laid low and managed to avoid getting caught on any of the city security cameras he monitored. 

After returning the biotoxin to the germ lab, he stepped up his patrols around the museum. He didn’t want to believe Catwoman would try to steal real Queen’s Ruby but, given her track record, he couldn’t rule it out, either. The exhibit had ended three days ago and she never appeared. One part pleased with her absence and the other disappointed, he tried to avoid reading too much into her lack of criminal activity over the past six weeks. He tried to avoid hoping to cross her path again. He tried to avoid missing her. 

The door to his office swung open and his assistant Doris walked in, her arms weighed down by several gift baskets brimming with nuts, dried fruit, popcorn, and bottles of wine. 

“Oh no, not more,” he said after verifying the phone was on mute. 

“It’s the holidays, Mr. Wayne. Your contacts want to make sure you receive a little something so you’ll keep doing business with them next year.” 

“They’ve a better chance of that if they donate to charity.”

“Give alcohol to the office holiday party stash and put the gift baskets in the kitchen for the employees?” 

“Please.”

“What about this one?” Doris held up a small dark purple jewelry box tied with a black ribbon. 

“What is it?” 

“No idea. It was x-rayed before they brought it up. It’s safe, whatever it is.” The mailroom x-rayed all packages that came into Wayne Enterprises. It was part of normal life in a city like Gotham. 

“Leave it.” 

As she left, he studied the box, turning it over in search of a note or a tag. There was none. Luckily, he was prepared for these situations. 

Donning a pair of gloves and a surgical mask hidden in the false bottom of one of his drawers, he slowly untied the ribbon. Nothing happened. After checking the top of the box for triggers and finding none, he took a deep breath and pulled the top off. A piece of paper was nestled inside the box. He pulled it out, unfolded it, and saw a message scrawled across it in a loopy hand:

“ _Next time I’ll keep them._  
XO,  
S”

He looked in the box. There, atop a small piece of cotton batting, sat his silver cufflinks. 

 

@@@@@@@

 

At 2:30 a.m. she arrived back at her new apartment. Temperatures in the low teens hadn’t deterred her from taking a much-needed jaunt around the city’s rooftops. She’d missed it. 

Isis didn’t move from her cat tree when Selina slipped in through the skylight. 

“Still mad at me?” she asked, pulling her cowl from her head and running her fingers through her hair. The cat stood, stretched, and turned so her back was facing her owner before sitting back down. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Save the cat tree, a small table and chair, and her queen bed; the loft apartment was unfurnished. Most everything she owned was still in storage. It didn’t matter. She was home. Finally. 

“Nice place.” A deep baritone rolled over her, sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. 

“You should learn to knock,” she said, trying to calm her heart as he emerged from the shadows.They stood in the dark apartment, hearts pounding in their throats. It should be awkward, this silence between them after everything. Instead, it was comforting. He’d missed her, missed everything about her. She’d missed him, too. 

“I-” she said, trailing off as they stared at each other in the dark. 

Everything gave way. Everything they’d pushed aside during the mission - the lust, the attraction, the actual affection for the other; it was on the surface now, burning in their eyes, making it hard to breathe. 

He didn’t say a word. There was nothing he could say to convey how he’d missed her, how her absence had left a part of him he didn’t know existed hollow and empty. So he just kissed her. 

She kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his. The kiss surged through her, making her weak, making her toes curl in her boots and causing the tendons in her fingers to contract into weak fists.

Somehow he held her upright as he struggled against the impulse to melt into her, to sink to his knees and take her down with him, to drown in her right there on her hardwood floor. They were urged on by what they’d wanted for so long - to be one, joined at the lips and the hips, breath and moans intertwined and tangled There was no intellectual rationalizing keeping them apart, no sirens echoing in the distance to interrupt them - it was just their lips pressed together and their tongues dancing in perfect rhythm. 

She searched for a way into his suit to feel his skin. She had felt Bruce Wayne’s solid warmth in the museum, she knew Batman’s ridged heat from the rooftop. Tonight neither would be enough. Tonight she wanted Bruce. Only Bruce. 

“I want to feel you. Not this,” she whispered, her claws scratching grooves into the bat symbol emblazoned across his chest. Nodding once, they made short work of both their costumes. Isis took refuge in the bathroom as dark-colored items flew around the apartment until they were stripped down to their underwear. Many hours later, after everything, she would find one of her boots standing upright in her kitchen sink. 

Her fingers ran down his chest, ran across the body she’d fled from and relied on, the body she’d battled and, soon, loved. That beautiful, scarred, battered body. The bullet wound in his thigh was colored the pink of newly-healed flesh. She made a mental note to be gentle around his fresh injuries and pressed her lips to the skin on his collarbone. 

His lips parted as he ran his fingertips over her shoulders. She was soft and supple, her skin warm and inviting, just as it always had been. Everything about her was perfect, even the scars on her body, the scars no one living this life could avoid. A large purple bruise colored her thigh, a bruise he wouldn’t ask about because he didn’t need to ask. He knew; just as she knew why he had fresh stitches on his forearm. Finding her lips again, he gripped her ass as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the bed while trying not to trip on the pieces of his suit strewn about the apartment. 

“Everything’s still in storage,” she said against his lips as he knelt on the mattress. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, biting her neck and pushing her onto her back. With surprising speed she flipped him onto his back, her eyes burning with lust. He returned her gaze in that way men have - eyes slightly glazed over with passion and desire. 

Straddling him, his hands instantly found their way to her hips as he sat up to kiss her. She dragged her nails lightly down his chest and over his nipples, smiling when he gasped in surprised pleasure. Slowly and deliberately, she moved her pelvis against his erection as he removed her bra and tossed the garment across the apartment. 

“You like that, lover?” she whispered, running her nails over his nipples again as she moved her hips with purpose. He grunted in the affirmative. Flipping her over, he placed one gentle kiss on her sternum directly between her breasts before teasing her right nipple into a hard peak with his mouth. She shivered and arched against him, her mouth open in a silent moan. 

He whispered her name lowly before kissing her so hard she lost her breath. His hands skimmed her sides until he made contact with her flimsy underwear and he pushed the garment off her hips and down her legs, his erection nudging against her as he worked. When she was completely bare before him, he sat back and took her in, those ice blue eyes roaming over her form and committing it to memory. When he made eye contact with her again she winked before jumping on him and knocking him onto his back. He smirked as his head his the pillows.

She straddled his legs and kissed down his body, using her tongue and lips in tandem as her fingernails worked his sides. Pulling his shorts down, he raised his hips so she could rip them from his body with purpose and toss them aside. Mirroring his actions from earlier, she took in every line of his form - every scar, every indent in his musculature, every freckle. He was so beautiful. 

He didn’t even have time to inhale before she took him into her mouth.

“Jesus,” he gasped as she started to bob her head up and down, her fingers lightly stroking his balls. He looked down and watched - her lips wrapped tightly around him, her cheeks hollow, her eyes closed, her breasts moving with the rhythm of her body. She was amazing - smart, resourceful, strong...he couldn’t think. He just enjoyed. 

His orgasm built within him. But he couldn’t. Not without her. He stopped her and pulled her up his body, kissing her hard and fierce. Instead of rolling her onto her back, he utilized his upper body strength and lifted her lower body onto his face. 

“Oh!” she cried in surprise as his lips made first contact with her heated sex. Once she acclimated to his ministrations, she knelt above his face as he licked and sucked her most sensitive area. His fingers dug into her ass as he pulled her closer, making sure he tasted every last drop of her sweetness. He brought one hand up and inserted a finger inside her.

“Oh God...” she gasped, leaning backward and putting all her weight on her arms, her hands gripping his thick rugby player thighs - thankfully far from the still-healing bullet wound. She bucked her hips against his face. There was no thought, just instinct. 

She was moaning incoherently now, her body trembling. She was close. He had every intention of taking her right over the edge but she pulled herself away. Shaking, she straddled him and kissed his face clean. Panting between kisses she asked: 

“Do you have a condom?” 

He smiled against her lips in response and reached for his utility belt, the only piece of his suit he’d been deliberate in discarding. He pulled one out. 

“Always prepared. I like that about you,” she said as she grabbed it from him and unwrapped it. She pushed it onto his erect cock, earning a small uptick in breath from Bruce. He rolled her gently onto her back and positioned himself at her entrance.

Looking down at her, her green eyes half-lidded, lips parted with anticipation, he felt a tightness in his chest. He’d wanted this, wanted this woman who surprised him at every turn and made his heart pound as he chased her across the city. As they worked together, he found himself wanting more than just sex. This wouldn’t be enough for them. And that was ok. 

“Selina,” he whispered, his heart on his sleeve, his face completely open. 

“Bruce,” she whispered, smiling, her face just as open. The look on her face was the same one from the Batplane. She bit her lip and gripped his forearms as he slid himself into her with one solid thrust. They both groaned. It was better than he imagined. They kissed and moved together in perfect four four time, their lips lingering on the other’s. 

It was good. It was too good. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and thrust slowly and deeply into her, committing every last second to memory, relishing in the feeling of finally being joined with her. 

Selina’s eyes slid closed and she gripped his powerful shoulders. God, this was good. Just like during their mission, they worked together. Instead of a battle for dominance, each movement established a partnership, a perfect balance of give and take. Their movements complimentary - she rolled her hips further into him as his hands gripped her thighs and pulled her toward him; his shoulders dipped into her as she grabbed onto him for leverage. Sparks ignited embers which grew into flame as their passion deepened, their bodies flush.

Sliding his hand between them, he brushed his thumb across her clit, moving delicious circles over her and drawing light moans from her lips. Time meant nothing as they moved, there was no before or after, there was just this moment. This perfect moment. 

Soon she clenched around him and cried out, her body arching, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she came. He managed to force his eyes open to watch her face in ecstasy, and when she finished and met his gaze with a half-lidded satisfied stare, he followed her into bliss. 

He collapsed atop her and she relished in the feeling of his full weight on hers. 

“That was...” she whispered into his ear while running her hand through his sweat-damped hair. He pulled his head up to look at her, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing her again.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

 

She was still naked when he exited the bathroom. She was on her belly, her upper body propped up by her elbows and her long legs bent at the knees, feet crossed in the air. She stared out the window, the first purple rays of dawn falling across her cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He memorized the curves of her body, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that when his time came this is one of the moments that flashed before his eyes. 

Kneeling naked on the bed, he kneaded her ass in his hands and pressed his lips to the small of her back before lying beside her. 

“Hello lover,” she said, rolling onto her side to face him.

“Hi,” he answered before kissing her again. They gazed at each other for a moment, caught in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

“I trust our mutual friend received my gift?” 

“He did,” he said. “I hear you’re back in Gotham for good.” 

“Rumors,” she said playfully, rolling away from him to look out the window again. He spooned into her, his chest against her back, and propped himself up on his elbow. 

“Purchasing the penthouse of a renovated brownstone - tallest one in the area, complete with a private roof deck and a skylight - says differently.” 

“I was thinking of taking up gardening. Besides, my cat needs sunlight to bask in.” Breathing deeply, she committed his manly musk to memory. 

“You didn’t go after the Queen’s Ruby,” he said softly, his lips curling upward at the corners. 

“It was played out,” she said, waving it away. In reality, she didn’t want to steal it. Not after everything they’d been through. She left it alone as a testament to their adventure. 

“You going straight?” he asked. He couldn’t keep the hopeful note out of his voice. She chuckled and he felt it through her back. 

“I don’t know. Stranger things have happened.” 

“With Robin spending more time with the Titans, it wouldn’t hurt to have a local ally to call on.” 

“Are you suggesting I take up heroing full time?”

“You could have your own section of the city. Close to home if you’d like.” 

“Catwoman: Defender of the East End?” she joked, smiling before turning to face him again. “I don’t know if that’s for me. I like my life the way it is. Don’t you?” The question hung between them. He knew what she was asking. 

“I think we’re both...solitary individuals,” he said. He took her hand in his. “I’m no good at relationships, Selina.” 

“I’m positive I’m no better.” The lay together in silence for several seconds, both weighing their options. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Just because we think we’ll fuck this up doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked. 

“Take it one day at a time?” 

Both were scared, both unsure. But there was something there. There had always been something there. They owed it to each other and themselves to see if there was something more than mutual respect, amazing teamwork, and great sex. 

Being together didn’t mean giving up who or what they were. When they were together, they were whole people. They gave the other what they lacked. They complimented one another. They _fit_. And they knew it. 

“I can do that,” he whispered, cupping her face and kissing her softly, the kiss full of hope and promise. They lay together in the comfort of their post-coital haze, their fingers intertwined, as dawn once again broke over Gotham City.


End file.
